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ELEMENTS 



OF 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



BY THE 

/ 
Rev. JASPER ADAMS, D. D., 

\\ 
PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE OF CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA, AND (EX OFFICIO) HORRY 
PROFESSOR OF MORAL AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY J MEMBER OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF 
NORTHERN ANTIQUARIES, AT COPENHAGEN j MEMBER OF THE AMERICAN ACADEMY OF ARTS 
AND SCIENCES, AT BOSTON, &C. 



" Nulla enim vitae pars, neque publicis neque privatis, neque forensibus neque domesticis 
in rebus ; neque si tecum agas quid, neque si cum aliquo contrahas, vacare officio potest : 
in eoque colendo sita vitae est honestu3 omnis, et in negligendo turpitude" 

Cicero, De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 2. 



CAMBRIDGE: 

FOLSOM, WELLS, AND THURSTON, 

PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. 

1837. 






Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1837, 

by Jasper Adams, 

in the Clerk's office of the District Court for the District of South Carolina. 



TO 



THE HONORABLE 



JO SI AH QUINCY, LL.D., 

PRESIDENT OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY 

THIS VOLUME 
IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 

BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



It seems appropriate to begin this volume by stating the cir- 
cumstances under which it is presented to the public. 

On the 8th of October, 1828, the late Elias Horry, Esq., made 
a donation often thousand dollars to the trustees of the College 
of Charleston, South Carolina. The instrument, by which the 
donation was conveyed to the Trustees, declares the design of 
the donor in making it to have been, " to assist the Trustees to 
establish a professorship in the College, of which the Principal 
for the time being shall be the Professor." In a letter dated the 
same day, the founder wrote to me thus ; — " God, in distributing 
his mercies and his favors, has been eminently bountiful to my 
family, and lastly to me ; and it is but just, that those, to whom 
his favors have been bestowed, should acknowledge his good- 
ness by rendering services to others, and more particularly to 
the community in which they dwell. I confess, that my feelings, 
on this day, have been uncommon and peculiar. My mind has 
always been anxious for the prosperity of my country, and par- 
ticularly for Charleston, my native city ; and, if my donation to 
the College shall hereafter prove a benefit to our youth, I shall 
consider my reward as rich indeed." 

In accepting this donation, the Trustees say, " The memory 
of such an act will not pass away with our transitory existence. 



vi PREFACE. 

Ordinarily the fruits of benevolence perish with their imme- 
diate appropriation ; but, in this instance, they will be enjoyed 
by the living, and be preserved in their original bloom and 
freshness for future ages. As long as literature and science, 
and the improvement of the minds and morals of the rising gen- 
eration, shall be cultivated among us, the name of the distin- 
guished patron and promoter of these inestimable objects will 
be gratefully associated with them."* On the 25th of October, 
1829, the founder, in communicating his " intentions respecting 
his professorship," to the Trustees, says, among other things, 
et It is further his intention, that for ever hereafter, the Lec- 
tures delivered on Moral and Political Philosophy, by every 
Principal of the College of Charleston as the Horry Professor, 
shall be printed and published, from time to time, in such man- 
ner as the Trustees and Principal of the said College shall judge 
expedient, and for its benefit." In a letter to me of 2d of Feb- 
ruary, 1829, after referring to these " intentions," he says, "I 
thought it best to trammel the professorship but little, and to 
leave as much as possible to the judgment, talents, and learn- 
ing of the Principal of the college, and to the changes both in 
morals and politics which in the course of time may happen. I 
am glad to hear, that you have commenced your preparations for 
delivering your Lectures, and I look forward with great pleasure, 
to the good which will result from them." 

Again, in a letter of the 3d of June, 1829, he says, "I con- 
sider Moral Philosophy to be that branch of science, which treats 
of man in his individual capacity, and of the moral and intellec- 
tual qualities of his mind. Political Philosophy, I consider as 
applicable to men in their public capacities, whereby civil so- 
cieties are formed, governments are established, and laws are 
framed or enacted, in the first instance, for the guidance of each 
society, state, or nation, and afterwards to regulate the inter- 

* Resolution, introduced to the Board of Trustees by the Hon. William Dray- 
ton, and unanimously approved, on the 13th of October, 1828. 



PREFACE. Vll 

course of states or nations with each other, both in peace and in 
war, thereby forming laws for the guidance of nations. You 
have properly expressed what I understand by Political Philoso- 
phy, or Political Law, by the terms c constitutional and interna- 
tional law,' regarding, however, each State in our union or con- 
federacy, as a sovereign State or community. The treatise on 
Political Law which I studied, was that of Burlamaqui, who was 
professor of law at Geneva. Since his time, Europe has 
changed, the human mind has become in a manner reorganized, 
and in America the greatest of all the republics known to the 
world has been established. A treatise on Political Law or 
Philosophy, on the plan of Burlamaqui's, or Vattel's, or of any 
other distinguished jurist, but to suit our age, our national 
government, and the governments of our States, would come 
fully up to my ideas. I will here repeat," continues he, "what 
I mentioned to you in a former letter, — that I would wish to 
trammel the professorship but little, and to leave as much as 
possible, to the judgment, talents, and learning of the professor; 
who will suit his Lectures to the changes both in morals and 
politics which time will occasion." 

Again, in still another letter, of the 20th of January, 1830, 
he says, " Although the composition of your Lectures has cost 
you great literary labor, and the time which would otherwise 
have been devoted to relaxation from your important duties, yet 
in the end you will be rewarded by the great public good you 
will render to the present, and every succeeding generation of 
youth in our city, and by the pleasure, — by the satisfaction 
you will ever enjoy, in having, by your learning, made a large 
contribution to the cause of literature." 

It will be seen by the documents, which the founder of this 
professorship has left behind him, # and which have been quoted 
above, that he contemplated a series of works to be published 
on Moral and Political Science, as a consequence of his munifi- 

* He died on the 17th of September, 1834. ( 



Vlli PREFACE. 

cence. These documents have made known his wishes and ex- 
pectations with a fulness and definiteness, which leave nothing to 
be desired. And the great and frequent complaints, which have 
been recently made, that the persons, to whose trust benefac- 
tions of this kind have been committed, have very extensively 
failed to apply them in good faith to accomplish the objects de- 
signed by the donors, led me to an immediate determination to 
use my utmost endeavours to meet the expectations and justify 
the confidence, which the late Mr. Horry reposed in me, and 
which chiefly influenced him, I have the best reason to believe, 
V to found his professorship in the College of Charleston. I was 
unwilling that the fault should be ascribed to any want of exer- 
tion on my part, if his expectations were not answered. 

Guided by these views, and acting under the influence of these 
sentiments, I formed my original plan for executing his " inten- 
tions " as made known by himself. I proposed ultimately to 
C write and publish, 1. An Elementary Treatise of Moral Philoso- 
phy. 2. A Constitutional History of the United States. (3. An 
Elementary Treatise on the Constitutional Law of the United 
States.* 4. A Treatise on the Law of Nations. 

The volume now presented to the public is the first fruit of the 
founding of this professorship, so far as publication is concerned. 
The preparation of the second of the contemplated series, — a 
Constitutional History of the United States, — is far advanced, 
and it is intended to publish it, as soon as it can be revised and 
completed. Some small progress, too, has been made in the 
- fourth of the series originally contemplated. 

In writing this treatise of Moral Philosophy (which was at 
first written in the form of lectures), I have carefully kept in 
view several principles by which I have intended to guide 
myself. 

1. It has been the leading part of my plan, to treat of practical 

C * In consequence of the publication of Mr. Justice Story's " Commentaries 
! on the Constitution of the United States." this part of the author's plan has been 
relinquished. 



PREFACE. IX 

morals as distinctly as possible from any other subject. There 
has been some difficulty in doing this, because the department 
of practical morals is intimately connected with the theory of 
morals, with law, and with Christian theology. I have been the 
more particular in observing this rule, because I have seen an 
admixture of theology and moral philosophy, which I consider 
injudicious, in several late treatises of moral philosophy. 

2. Again, it has been an essential part of my plan, to write a 
/ treatise of Christian morals, — to collect, expand, and illustrate 
1 the moral principles and precepts of the Bible. To this end, I 

have endeavoured to keep close to the letter and spirit of the 
Old and New Testaments, considering myself, when treating of 
the morals, no less than if I had been discussing the doctrines 
of Christianity, bound not to " add unto " or u take away from " # 
this highest source of wisdom and most authoritative standard of 
practice as well as of faith. 

3. My plan has embraced the elements of practical morals 
only, and my aim has therefore been to avoid all abstruse, re- 
fined, and especially all speculative discussions of the subject. 
These are not without their measure of importance ; but they 
are beyond the limits which, at the outset, I prescribed to my- 
self. In drawing this distinction between the elements and the 
more abstruse parts of the subject, accurate judgment and nice 
discrimination are requisite, and I may not always have been 
successful. But the attempt has been honestly made and steadily 
pursued. 

4. I have endeavoured to write an elementary treatise of prac- 
tical Christian morals, which shall give no just cause of offence to 
any denomination of Christians, or to any religious, literary, or 
political party in the country. The different denominations of 
Christians will find their peculiarities very seldom, if ever, refer- 
red to, and if referred to at all, always, I trust, respectfully. It 
is perhaps too much to expect complete success in this particu- 

* Revelation xxii. 18, 19. 



X PREFACE. 

lar, but I have sincerely wished to avoid giving just cause of of- 
fence to any individual, or to any body of men whatever. 

5. I have endeavoured to treat practical morals in a manner 
suited to the wants of the present day. This remark has respect 
both to the selection of topics for discussion and illustration, and 
to the application of principles to the tendencies, events, and 
general circumstances of the passing times. The principles of 
practical morals are the imperishable principles of truth, and are 
not in themselves subject to change; but the proper mode, in which 
they are to be illustrated and applied, varies, in a greater or less 
degree, according to the form of government, the structure and 
condition of society, the employments, and the state of educa- 
tion, general intelligence, &c, in a country. It is the duty of 
each succeeding writer on any science, to reproduce and incor- 
porate into his work, whatever is most valuable in the works of 
preceding writers on the same science ; otherwise knowledge 
cannot be expected to advance, and might possibly retrograde. 
But in addition to this, it has been my aim to combine in my 
work whatever of fresh and novel interest is entitled to atten- 
tion. To this end, I have availed myself of all the materials 
which diligence, vigilant search, and enterprise could bring with- 
in my reach. I have, during many years, purchased all the 
books and pamphlets published upon Moral Philosophy or any of 
its topics, which, I have had reason to believe, were worth pur- 
chasing. The science of practical morals is not stationary, 
much less is it incapable of advancement. Like other sciences, 
it depends in a certain degree on experience, and successive 
writers ought to aim to collect, and register in their works, the 
well matured results of experience. This volume seems to 
me to contain a considerable number of new results of this 
kind. 

6. In treating the various subjects which make up this vol- 
ume, I have not thought my duty fulfilled by presenting my own 
unassisted reflections and conclusions ; though to have satisfied 
myself with such a course would have been a task comparative- 



PREFACE. Xi 

ly free from difficulty. The truth is, practical Christian morals 
form a branch of science, depending quite as much on authority 
as any other science whatever. The writer of an elementary 
treatise on any branch of the law presents his conclusions sus- 
tained, limited, modified, and otherwise qualified, by the best 
authorities with which his learning and research have furnished 
him. To this end, he consults statutes, the decisions of the most 
authoritative tribunals, the comments and illustrations of men 
learned in the science, and uses them all in aid of his own ac- 
quirements made by reading, observation, and reflection. In 
like manner, the science of morals does not consist of the 
opinions, sentiments, and conclusions of one or of a few men. 
The Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, the law of the 
land, the illustrations, amplifications, and deductions of the 
great masters of reason and argument, who have adorned the 
annals of mankind, both in ancient and modern times, are to be 
constantly consulted by the moral philosopher, and their labors 
are to be used in aid of his own. 

7. As this Treatise is designed for the use of our higher insti- 
tutions of learning, as well as for private reading, it has been 
my aim to select, from the very wide circle of subjects embraced 
within this science, those which are fitted to be most useful to the 
young men who resort to those institutions for education, and to 
treat them in a manner suited to their situation and wants. In 
discussing and illustrating the various subjects selected, it has 
been my aim to convey as much pertinent and valuable mat- 
ter as possible, in a clear, direct, and condensed style. The 
most suitable order and arrangement, too, in which to dispose my 
materials have engaged my attention. I have brought to the 
composition of the work, a spirit of patient labor and a desire to 
be useful. I have endeavoured, moreover, to infuse into every 
part, a healthful moral tone, suited to cherish the candor, 
modesty, sincerity, ingenuousness, and docility of temper, which 
are the greatest ornament of youth, and the highest promise of 
future success and usefulness in life. I have permitted no occa- 



xii PREFACE. 

sion to pass by unimproved, which I might fairly use, to incul- 
cate an elevated sense of justice, of integrity, of honor, of 
dignity, and of independence of feeling, sentiment, and action. 
All these are elements of an enlightened sense of duty, the 
strengthening and maturing of which, is, of all things, the most 
essential in the formation of character. 

Next to religion, the moral interests of a nation are its high- 
est interests, and practical morals have an intrinsic claim to be 
universally studied and understood. Studies pertaining to moral 
duty, that is, to personal conduct, may well claim precedence 
of every other. It is not important, that every man should be 
acquainted with Algebra and Geometry, though these sciences 
are not without their use to any one ; but it is important, that 
every man, whatever may be his vocation, should be acquainted 
with practical morals. Still, the importance of Moral Philosophy 
is not so generally acknowledged as it ought to be, and it has 
been very much neglected, in almost, if not quite all our institu- 
tions of education. 

Moral Philosophy has important relations to, and connexions 
with law ; and, on these parts of the subject, I have sometimes 
stood in need of the aid and advice of gentlemen learned in the 
law. My acknowledgments are due to Mitchell King, C. G. 
Memminger, and George W. Eggleston, Esquires, of Charles- 
ton, for considerable assistance rendered in this way. While 
residing at Cambridge to superintend the printing, similar as- 
sistance has been given me, with much kindness and courtesy, 
by Simon Greenleaf, Esq., Royall Professor of Law in Harvard 
University, and by Mr. Justice Story, of the Supreme Court of the 
United States. Invited " to consult them as often as it suited 
me," several of my chapters have derived the greatest advan- 
tage from the consultations which were thus encouraged. Presi- 
dent Quincy, also, with his accustomed liberality, and without 
waiting to be applied to, opened to me all the facilities of the 
University. 

Cambridge, 4 September, 1837. 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 



PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES AND DISCUSSIONS. 

Page 

Moral Philosophy is founded on the moral constitution of man, .... 1 

Moral Philosophy partly theoretical and partly practical, 2 

There has been great diversity of sentiment on the theoretical part, ... 2 
Illustration of this observation by examples taken from philosophers, ancient 

and modern, 2 

There has been a remarkable coincidence of sentiment among mankind on z>~-» 

the 'practical department of morals, 6 

This position sustained by argument, and by numerous authorities, ... 6 
This general concurrence of sentiment among mankind lays a firm founda- 
tion, on which to build a system of practical morals, 10 

Two objects are specially contemplated in practical morals. 1. The forma- 
tion and cultivation of a permanent, strong, and delicate sense of duty. 
2. A knowledge of the principles and rules which determine our duty in 

the various situations and relations of life, 11 

Analysis of the sense of duty, and its beneficial influence, 11 

Conscience is an element of our mental constitution, 14 

Its office is to judge and prescribe in morals, and to pronounce a definite 

sentence on our conduct, 14 

Its decisions are to each individual his supreme moral guide, 14 

The last three positions confirmed by argument, by a brief historical review, 

and by numerous authorities, ancient and modern, 14 

To insure safe decisions, however, the conscience must be guided and en- 
lightened, and the mind must be kept free from passion and prejudice, . 28 
The conscience is to be guided and enlightened from several sources, . . 29 

1. By the law of the land; but this is an imperfect guide, 29 

2. By looking to the consequences of our conduct ; but this, too, is an im- 
perfect and a subordinate guide, 33 

3. By the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament; and these supply the 
defects of the two preceding guides, 37 

To confirm this last position, the Scriptures are reviewed, under the divisions 

of the Patriarchal, Mosaic, and Christian dispensations, 37 

The patriarchal dispensation is chiefly distinguished for facts and institutions 

having a moral bearing and influence, 38 

Review of the moral character of the Mosaic dispensation, 39 

Review of the moral character of the Ten Commandments, 39 

Review of the morality of the Psalms, the Proverbs, and the Apocrypha, . 41 
Review of the morality of the Christian dispensation. The morality of the 

Gospel is superior to that of the patriarchal and Mosaic dispensations, . 43 
Its design was, so far as morals are concerned, to furnish motives to~moral 

conduct, rather than rules; sanctions, rather than precepts, 44 



Xivr ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 

Page 
Christianity is the only religion which has ever contemplated extending 

itself and its blessings through the earth by peaceable means, .... 44 
This characteristic of Christianity is more extraordinary than we are accus- 
tomed to suppose, 45 

Confirmation of this, by reference to the sentiments, designs, and actions of 

the ancient founders of cities, lawgivers, philosophers, &c, 44 

Other chief characteristics of the morals of Christianity, 50 

Our Saviour's character a part of the morality of the Gospel, 55 

Tests by which to try the moral sublimity of his character. 1. The design 
of his coming. 2. The nature of the means which he employed to ac- 
complish his' sublime and beneficent design. 3. The personal qualities 
displayed by him. 4. The effects actually produced by Christianity thus 

far, and those which we may anticipate, ■ 57 

An objection to the science of Moral Philosophy anticipated, CQ 



PART I. 

OUR RELATION TO GOD, AND THE MORAL DUTIES THENCE 

ARISING. 

CHAPTER I. Elucidation of this highest of our Relations, and 
of the Moral Influence of a Belief in a Supreme Being. 

Our conception of the Deity unites in itself the richest moral elements, 
all that is fair, great, and good, whatever bears the impress of beauty, 
grandeur, sublimity, order, harmony, dignity, and happiness, . ... 66 

Hence, the character of the Deity is to us a fixed and ultimate standard of 
moral excellence, by the contemplation of which, the tendencies of man 
to wickedness are counteracted, and human nature rises above its natural 
condition, 66 

This argument respecting the special moral influence arising from a belief 
in God, and his superintending providence, confirmed, 67 

1. By an appeal to the recorded sentiments and convictions of all nations 
which have left any writings, 67 

2. By citing the sentiments of the American revolutionary Congress, . . 69 
Belief in God, then, and his superintending providence, is alike the founda- 
tion of morals and religion, 70 

Case of the heathen who knew God, but glorified him not as God, ... 70 
To preserve that strong conviction and deep sense of God, which is the root 
and branch of practical morals, we must perform the duties which spring 
from the relation in which we stand to him, 71 

CHAPTER II. The general Duty of Reverencing God. 

Analysis of the reverence which we owe to God, 71 

Tendency and effect of levity, ridicule, sneering, and scoffing at religion, 72 

CHAPTER III. The Duty of Worshipping God. 

There is a distinction between reverencing and worshipping God, ... 73 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. XV 

Page 
The special object of Divine worship, is to keep up in the mind a habit of 

devotion and reverence, 73 

Divine worship, private and public, is both natural and reasonable, ... 74 
This position illustrated by examples, and confirmed by argument, ... 74 

The chief objection against prayer answered, 76 

The subject matter of which prayer and thanksgiving ought to consist, . . 77 
Remarks on the part of Divine service which consists of preaching and cate- 
chetical instruction, 79 

Importance of catechetical instruction, 82 

The benefits, public and private, of Divine worship, 82 

3. It does not seem possible, in any other way, to keep up any practical 
knowledge of God, and the ascendency of Christian principles, .... 83 

2. A large part of mankind have but small opportunities of receiving moral 
and religious instruction elsewhere than at church, . . • 84 

3. Habitual joining in a common religious service has a tendency to unite 
mankind in the bonds of a common fellowship, and to cherish and enlarge 

the generous affections, 84 

4. The various classes of mankind meet each other, in the church, on some- 
thing like equal terms, and this tends to check the exclusive spirit nour- 
ished by the artificial distinctions of human pride and power, .... 85 

CHAPTER IV. The Observance of Sunday. 

The moral influence of the private and public worship of God, makes the 
observance of Sunday a matter of great moment in the view of the moral 
philosopher, 86 

Review of the early history of the Hebrew Sabbath, 87 

The question, whether the institution known originally by the name of the 
Sabbath, and in later times by the name of Sunday, was designed, save 
the mere change of the day, to be the same, and to be of perpetual obliga- 
tion, — argued and answered in the affirmative, 88 

The duties which constitute a suitable observance of Sunday, 95 

1. A cessation from labor; except the labor of attending and performing 
Divine service, and works of necessity and mercy, 96 

2. Attendance on public worship, private prayer, reading, meditation, and 

the instruction of children and servants, 97 

3. The appropriation of a part of the day to the moral and religious instruc- 
tion of children in Sunday schools, is one of the greatest moral improve- 
ments of modern times, 97 



PART II. 



OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY, AND THE MORAL DUTIES 
THENCE ARISING ; THAT IS, THE DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 

Christianity has made obedience to civil government imperatively binding 
on the conscience, 100 

But Christianity does not teach unlimited obedience to civil government, 
much less does it inculcate a servile spirit, ,...•. 100 



LS 



Xvi ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 

Page 
No obedience, too, is owed by any one, where the consequence must be a 

violation of his duty to God, 100 

The duty of civil obedience is prescribed in the New Testament in strong 

terms, because of the overwhelming evils of anarchy and revolution, . 101 
The right of revolution begins, at the point where civil obedience ceases to 

be a virtue, 101 

What this point is, those who undertake a revolution must judge for them- 
selves, 101 

Mr. Burke quoted in illustration of this subject, 101 

Our Declaration of Independence has marked the right and duty of resistance 
with as much definiteness as seems practicable, 102 

CHAPTER I. Moral Duties of Rulers of every Grade. 

Rulers of every grade occupy a common ground, and sustain a common re- 
lation to their country, from which spring important moral duties, . . . 103 

It is their duty to guard themselves against faction and party spirit, which 
have been the bane of all free governments, 103 

The peculiar facilities for usefulness, which they enjoy, are a great moral 
trust, and it is their duty to use them to advance the interests of educa- 
tion, good morals, humanity, religion, &c, 106 

The dignity of office, by an easy transition, passes over to him who fills it; 
and, therefore, rulers are especially bound, in conscience, to see that their 
example in private be salutary in its tendency and influence, .... 108 

CHAPTER II. Duties of the Citizens towards the Civil Magis- 
trate. 

The New Testament ranks these among the most important moral duties, 110 

Civil governors are entitled to a fair, candid, and even favorable representa- 
tion of their sentiments, conduct, and official measures, Ill 

They are entitled, too, to a fair and reasonable active support, until their 
conduct has been such as to forfeit a liberal confidence, 112 

Even when an administration comes into office against our wishes and en- 
deavours, they are still entitled to be judged by their measures, . . . 112 

A line of distinction reasonably definite, drawn between a factious and a prin- 
cipled opposition, 113 

The sentiments of Mr. John Quincy Adams on this subject, cited, . . . 114 

CHAPTER III. The Dutv of the Citizen in regard to the Ex- 
ercise of the Elective Franchise. 

It is the duty of the citizen to exercise the elective franchise with integrity 

and discretion, . 115 

The elective franchise is rightly regarded as a public trust, 115 

In this country, this trust is one of much dignity and importance, . . . 116 
It is an abuse of this trust to exercise it in furtherance of any private and 

selfish end, 116 

Two questions of practical difficulty discussed. 1. How far a man may 
rightfully act with a party in times of public excitement. 2. How far, 
and in what ways, he may attempt to influence the votes of other electors, 116 
Several practices common at elections animadverted on, 118 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. xvii 

Page 
CHAPTER IV. The Duty of the Citizens to cultivate a Patri- 
otic Spirit and the Patriotic Virtues. 

In the first stages of society, the great body of the people of every country 

were soldiers, 119 

Much of the martial spirit has descended to our times, and is regarded by 

many as almost the exclusive test and evidence of patriotism, .... 120 
Such a view of patriotism is unnatural, illiberal, and unreasonable, . . . 120 
Patriotism analyzed into its elements, and illustrated by citing Vattel, . . 120 
The martial spirit and virtues were esteemed superior to the peaceful spirit 
and civil virtues, in the time of Cicero, but this opinion was not received 

by him, 122 

Moral power is the chief tower of strength to a country, 122 

Hence a man may become a distinguished patriot, and be entitled to the 
highest honors of patriotism, without commanding an army, .... 122 

CHAPTER V. The Duty of Citizens to keep Themselves well in- 
formed RESPECTING PUBLIC MEN AND PUBLIC MEASURES. 

Such information is necessary to exercise the elective franchise with integ- 
rity and discretion, 123 

The founders of our political institutions relied for success on universal 
education, correct information, and good moral habits among the people, 123 

To this end, our constitutions and laws have made education a subject of 
special recommendation and encouragement, 123 

This position confirmed and illustrated by references to the constitutions 
and laws of the individual States and of the United States, 124 

CHAPTER VI. The Duty of the Citizen to aid in the Defence 
of his Country, and in the Administration of Justice, by serv- 
ing on Juries, giving Testimony on Oath, &c. 

It is easy to understand, that peace is the interest of all nations, .... 127 

Still, the most even-handed justice has not always secured this invaluable 
blessing to a nation, 127 

We may trust, that hereafter an international tribunal may be established 
for the adjustment of national controversies, 127 

In the mean time it is the duty of the citizen to aid in the defence of his coun- 
try, 123 

The trial by jury commended, and the duty of the citizen to serve on juries, 
and to qualify himself for such service, explained and enforced, . . . 128 

The distinction between malum prohibitum and malum per se, when made for 
the purpose of obeying one law and evading another, entirely unsound, 131 

CHAPTER VII. Moral Duties of the United States, regarded as 
Communities, to One Another. 

States, kingdoms, commonwealths, all civil communities, are moral per- 
sons, responsible for their acts, and charged with various duties, . . .131 

The United States owe to one another all the duties prescribed by the Law 
of Nature and Nations, , 131 

The foundation of the Law of Nations stated and illustrated. 131 

C 



xviii ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 

Page 

Certain violations of international duties noticed, 133 

The peculiar duties of the United States to each other respect the preserva- 
tion of that harmony which so well becomes their intimate union, . . . 134 
Three ways by which this harmony has been disturbed, noticed, .... 134 



PART III. 



THE CHIEF RELATIONS OF MANKIND TO ONE ANOTHER, 
AND THE DUTIES THENCE ARISING. 

The importance of these relations, and a partial enumeration of them, . 138 
The key to the morals of this branch of the subject given us by our Saviour 
in Matt. vii. 12 139 

CHAPTER I, The Domestic Relations and the Duties springing 
from Them. 

The family is the original of all societies ; it was instituted by God himself; 
and is, of all, the most natural, the most permanent, and the most effective 
of good, 140 

The family compared with various artificial associations, 140 

Section I. The Relation of Husband and Wife, and their Reciprocal Duties. 

Almost universally, a Divine origin and a religious sanction have been be- 
lieved to pertain to this relation, 142 

The importance of the marriage union, and the objects of its institution, not 
unworthy of its Divine origin, 143 

Polygamy is as inconsistent with the law of nature, as it is with the ordi- 
nance of God, 144 

A Scriptural view of the relation of husband and wife, and of its duties, 144 

Two particulars dwelt upon and specially illustrated. 1. 'The practical ten- 
dency and purpose of the union of feeling and sentiment so much insisted 
on in the New Testament between married persons. 2. The precedence 
assigned to the husband, and the corresponding obedience enjoined on the 
wife, 145 

Section II. Of Parents and Children. 

Children are universally felt to be the first hope and highest interest of their 
parents, . . 148 

It is the duty of parents to educate their children. ......... 149 

The extensive sense of the term education, explained, 149 

It is the right and the duty of parents to discipline their children when 
young, within the bounds of a reasonable discretion, 152 

Valuable extract (in a note) from Lord Woodhouselee's " Life of Lord 
Karnes," pertaining to education and discipline, 153 

As children approach the age of discretion, the parental right of control and 
discipline is softened down into a right of advice and counsel, .... 155 

This right of parental advice is specially important in respect to two partic- 
ulars. 1. The choice of the employments their children are to pursue in 
life. 2. The connexions in marriage which they may be disposed to form 156 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. xix 

Page 
The case of daughters who are unmarried, and who are likely to continue 

so, considered, 159 

The duty of children to their parents, 159 

The term " honor " highly appropriate to express this duty, 159 

The special reward promised to children who honor their parents, . . . 160 
Children, during their early years, are to render their parents a prompt and 

cheerful obedience, 161 

Children are to give their parents the solace of their company and conversa- 
tion, wheu they become aged and infirm, 161 

They are bound in conscience to meet, as far as possible, in after life, the 
expectations formed of them by their parents, 161 

Section III. Of Brothers, Sisters, and more remote Relatives. 

The relation of brothers and sisters furnishes the natural foundation and oc* 

casions of permanent friendship and intimacies, 162 

A peculiarity in the affection between a brother and a sister, noticed, . . 165 
The degree, in which the more remote domestic relations are cherished, de- 
pends very much on the state of society in a country, 166 

Section IV. ' Relation of Master and Servant. 

Servants have been reckoned a part of the families of their masters from the 
earliest times, and the relation has been familiar in every country, . . . 168 

The Scriptural view of this relation and of the duties of the respective par- 
ties, 168 

Mr. Reeve enumerates five classes of servants, but a division into three 
classes, is sufficiently accurate for the author's purpose, „ 169 

Correlative rights and duties of masters and apprentices, 170 

Correlative rights, duties, and responsibilities of masters and servants, who 
become such by their own contract, 171 

Correlative duties of masters and servants who are " born in the house or 
bought with the money of their masters," 174 

Cautions given to masters, and the abuses to which this relation is most lia- 
ble, adverted to, 175 

Extract from the manuscript records of the Court of Appeals of South Caro- 
lina, pertaining to the law of master and servant, 175 

CHAPTER II. The Relation of Principal and Agent. 

This relation embraces attorneys, brokers, factors, &c, 176 

The general principle of the morals of principal and agent stated, .... 177 
This relation may be created by a written document, or verbally without 

writing, or by an acquiescence in the assumed agency of another, . . , 177 

Distinction between a confidential and a ministerial agent, 178 

General principles of the intercourse between the principal and his agent, 

in respect to confidence reposed, the observance of good faith, the abuses 

of the relation, &c, 178 

The case where the agent is made responsible for the issue of any business 

or enterprise intrusted to him, considered, 180 

The class of cases in which the person employed advises and directs his 

, employer, 181 



XX ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 

Page 
CHAPTER III. The Observance of Truth. 

The observance of truth is the chief of the personal virtues, and a disregard 
of it is among the most flagrant offences against manners, morals, and re- 
ligion, 181 

Scriptural authorities on this subject cited and reviewed, 181 

Importance of an adherence to truth tested by the consequences of general 
and indiscriminate falsehood, 182 

The chief cases in which truth is violated, reviewed, 183 

1. When facts, reasonings, &c, are suppressed or omitted, with the know- 
ledge or belief, that any one will thereby be led into error, 183 

2. By speaking or writing with a view to produce a particular effect, but 
without much regard to the truth of what is spoken or written, if it is 
fitted to accomplish the desired end, 184 

3. By the practice of repeating narratives and statements, without much or 
any inquiry into their credibility, and without much regarding whether 
they are true or false, 186 

4. Certain forms of expression usual in fashionable circles of society, seem 
to be inconsistent with the sincerity of character and the simplicity and 
directness of intercourse, in which much of truth consists, 187 

The case of a servant's denying his master, examined, . 188 

CHAPTER IV. Oaths. 

The use of oaths on solemn occasions, coeval with the dawn of history, . . 190 

The forms of oaths, and the ceremonies accompanying their administration, 

have been various in different ages and countries, 190 

In respect to the form, the principle is now well established, that every man 

when admitted to an oath, shall be bound by the highest sanctions of his 

own religion, 192 

An oath is a religious act, — its signification explained, 192 

History, argument, and experience combine to satisfy us of the efficacy of 

oaths as securities for truth and integrity, 194 

Complaints in regard to the abuse of oaths, have, during many years past, 

been frequent and general in England and the United States, .... 196 
Summary of the author's sentiments on this part of the subject, .... 197 
The New British statute of the 9th of September, 1835, by which declarations 

are very extensively substituted instead of oaths, solemn affirmations, and 

affidavits, reviewed, and commended for imitation in the United States, 198 
Notice of oaths which are not binding, and of extra-judicial oaths, . . . 199 

CHAPTER V. Observance of Promises. 

The non-observance of promises is the next highest and most dangerous 

infraction of good faith, after falsehood, 200 

Difference between a promise and a declaration of intention, . . . • . 200 
The meaning to be attached to a promise when its terms admit of more 

senses than one, 202 

The manner in which promises are affected by conditions, 203 

Our obligation in respect not only to promises, but to declarations and even 
to our conduct, is measured by the expectations which we knowingly and 
voluntarily excite, 204 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. xxi 

Page 

The cases in which promises are not binding, reviewed, 205 

The nature and obligation of vows, considered, 213 

CHAPTER VI. Observance of Contracts. 

The rule which in conscience governs the construction of all contracts 
stated, 214 

There is a gratifying and instructive coincidence between the rules of 
Christian morals, and the rules and doctrines of the law, in regard to con- 
tracts, 214 

The principles of Christian morals are recognised as the standard of the 
rules of law, and every contract, inconsistent with good morals, is against 
law and void, 220 

This position illustrated by materials drawn from Story's " Equity Jurispru- 
dence " and " Conflict of Laws," 220 

CHAPTER VII. The Duty of Mutual Assistance. 
Christian benevolence much more expansive than the limits of good-will, 
quoted from Plato and commended by Cicero, 226 

Section I. Assistance given in the Way of Advice. 

It is only necessary to look into the records of biography, to be convinced 
how much good may be done, in this way, to the young, the modest, and 
the inexperienced, . 227 

A striking instance illustrative of this observation, cited, 228 

Section II. Assistance given in the Way of our Employments and Professions. 

This way of doing good is particularly in the power of legislators, oflicers 
in the civil, military, and naval service, lawyers, physicians, clergymen, 
&c, '. 22& 

Section III. Assistance given in the Way of Judicious Patronage and Encour- 
agement. 

Many persons, eminently useful and successful in life, have testified, that 
they owed all their success and usefulness to a little timely assistance and 
encouragement, 231 

Several examples given by way of illustration ; among the rest, the case of 
Dr. Franklin, and a still more remarkable instance related by the Assistant 
Bishop of Virginia, 231 

Section IV. Assistance in the Way of Almsgiving. 

No duty more frequently or more earnestly insisted on in the New Testa- 
ment than almsgiving, 233 

With two directions given us by our Saviour, we are left to consult our 
own reason and experience in regard to the limits of the duty, the proper 
subjects of it, the most suitable occasions of its exercise, &c, .... 234 

Almsgiving is a practical problem, to wit, to relieve the suffering poor ef- 
. fectually, and, at the same time, not to minister to vice and the increase 
of pauperism, 234 

Christian almsgiving is among the great topics which have of late years en- 
gaged the attention of some of the best minds in Europe and in this coun- 
try, 234 



xxii ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. _ 

Page 

Former mistakes on this subject adverted to, 234 

The chief abuses of almsgiving stated and illustrated, 235 

Education, especially moral and religious education, the most beneficial of 

all the modes of almsgiving, 238 

Furnishing the poor with employment is another unexceptionable way of 

benefiting them, 239 

Alms given in considerable sums, to meritorious persons and families, may, 

under certain circumstances, be highly useful, 240 

Alms dispensed through the intervention of hospitals, almshouses, infirma- 
ries, and asylums, considered, 240 

Alms dispensed by charitable societies, considered, 241 

Several popular objections to charitable societies, stated, 241 

Five special rules given to direct charitable societies and individuals in dis- 
pensing alms, 242 

The administration of alms by a system of poor-laws, examined, .... 248 
Remarkable statements drawn from the late " Reports " of the English com- 
missioners on the poor-laws, 248 

The new act of Parliament on this subject adverted to, 253 

CHAPTER VIII. The Duties of Friendship. 

The question, whether mankind are accustomed to associate by the influ- 
ence of a natural principle, or by reason of the mutual aid which they 

can in this way derive from each other, answered, 253 

The importance of using caution in the choice of friends, . . . , . . 254 

The chief duties of friendship enumerated and illustrated, 255 

The chief abuses and violations to which friendship is liable, 259 

The duties imposed by the discontinuance of friendship, 261 

CHAPTER IX. The Relation of Benefactor and Beneficiary, 
and its Duties. 

The nature of this relation stated, and the chief duties of the respective 

parties illustrated, 263 

Two ways in which this relation may be abused by a benefactor, . . . 264 

CHAPTER X. The Duties of Hospitality. 

The Scriptures of the Old and New Testament insist very much on these 

duties, . 264 

The natural fruits of hospitality are, the cultivation of social intercourse, 

mutual kindness and good feeling, and the removal of unjust prejudices, 265 
Two manifest abuses of hospitality to be guarded against, 265 

CHAPTER XI. The Duties of Good Neighbourhood. 

The chief duties of good neighbourhood are, to render mutual aid, and to 
cultivate friendly intercourse, harmony, and good feeling among those, 
whose lot Providence has cast near each other, 267 

The chief duties enjoined by law among neighbours, stated, 268 

The chief causes, occasions, and circumstances, which are accustomed to 
disturb and injure neighbourhoods, reviewed, 269 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. xxiii 



PART IV. 

PERSONAL DUTIES AND OBLIGATIONS, OR THE DUTIES OF 

MEN TO THEMSELVES. 

Page 

CHAPTER I. The Duty of preserving Life and Health, includ- 
ing a Discussion of Suicide. 

Christianity looks upon our life and health, and all our other endowments, as 
so many talents intrusted to our administration, for the use of which we 
are responsible, 271 

The duty of preserving life and health means much more than abstaining 
from positive and known injury to either; — it includes the use of the 
means of preserving them, 272 

Suicide examined and shown to be opposed by philosophy, as well as by re- 
ligion both natural and revealed, 272 

CHAPTER II. Improvement of the Corporeal Faculties. 

A good constitution of body, and a high improvement of the corporeal pow- 
ers, are the result of a judicious and persevering physical education, . . 278 

The aid of the Roman satirist, Juvenal, used, in describing the perfection of 
the physical, intellectual, and moral man, 278 

CHAPTER III. Cultivation of the Powers of the Mind. 

Mental cultivation and excellence of whatever kind are, with slight qualifi- 
cations, the fruit of the personal sacrifices, efforts, and energy of the indi- 
vidual, 279 

The various faculties of our nature should be cultivated in due proportion, 
harmony, and consistency with each other, 280 

The ancient opinion, that scientific knowledge is attainable but by a few, 
must, with the present facilities of printing, be received with much quali- 
fication, 281 

CHAPTER IV. Cultivation of a strong, delicate, and perma- 
nent Sense of Duty. 

The being governed by a sense of duty comprises a suitable regard to every 
consideration, principle, sentiment, opinion, relation, fact, and circum- 
stance, from which any duty of any kind can spring, 289 

CHAPTER V. The Duty of cultivating Personal Religion and 
the Personal Virtues. 

The sentiments of Lord Chatham and of the late Sir Humphrey Davy on 

the importance of cultivating personal religion, cited, 291 

The importance of cultivating the personal virtues and the best means of 

doing so, illustrated by the examples of President Edwards and Dr. 

Franklin, 294 

The cultivation of personal religion and of the personal virtues contributes 

essentially to health, length of days, and success in the business of life, 300 



xxiv ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 

Page 
CHAPTER VI. The Duty of cultivating a Delicate Sense of 

Honor. 

True honor analyzed by the aid of Cicero, and shown to consist of the finest 
elements of feeling, of sentiment, and of action, 302 

False honor is the misunderstanding, the abuse, and the perversion of true 
honor, 303 

CHAPTER VII. The Duty of guarding Ourselves against Pre- 
judices, Antipathies, &c. 

The effect of prejudice, prepossession, bias, &c, is, to disturb the reason, 
to cloud and darken the understanding, and to pervert the conscience, 304 

In their more intense degrees, they are unquestionably criminal, and they 
all imply something wrong in our habits, education, ways of thinking, or 
usual state of feeling, 305 

History of prejudice illustrated by reference to personal experience, . . . 308 



PART V 



A REVIEW OF THE CHIEF PROFESSIONS AND EMPLOYMENTS 
OF LIFE, SO FAR AS REGARDS THE MORAL DUTIES WHICH 
THEY INVOLVE ; THEIR MORAL PRINCIPLES, PRACTICES, 
INFLUENCES, AND TENDENCIES. 

To the various professions and employments of life, a well-ascertained rank 
in general estimation is attached, which has been much the same at all 
times, and in all countries 309 

Illustration of this position drawn from the writings of Cicero, .... 309 

CHAPTER I. A Review of the Profession of the Law, includ- 
ing a Moral Estimate of the Legal Profession, so far as it 

NATURALLY COMES UNDER THE VlEW OF THE MORAL PHILOSOPHER. 

All the best authorities insist, that good morals are essentially requisite to 
the attainment of the highest order of excellence and success in the study 

and practice of the law, 311. 

This position sustained by authority and argument, 31 1 

Professional honor and integrity will forbid the lawyer to engage in a busi- 
ness of notorious wrong; but here a nice distinction arises, 313 

Two very manifest principles laid down by Sir James Mackintosh, . . . 313 

The acquirements most essential to the success of the lawyer, 315 

The main tendency of the legal profession is, to elevate the moral character, 
but there are incidental tendencies, which, unless guarded against, will 
degrade the personal and professional character of the lawyer, .... 315 
A striking difference between American and English lawyers, noticed, . . 318 
Anticipations of Mr. Justice Story in respect to American lawyers, . . . 319 

Duties of the lawyer towards his client, 320 

The judicial character is naturally the perfection of the character formed 
under the influence of the study and practice of the law, 321 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. XXV 

Page 
The judicial qualities requisite to the successful administration of justice, 
enumerated, 321 

There are various occasions in the life of a judge, of which he ought to avail 

himself to advance and strengthen the cause of good morals, .... 322 
The general unsullied purity of the English and American Bench, noticed, 322 

CHAPTER II. The Moral Influence and Tendency or the Study 
and Practice of Medicine and Surgery, with the Duties of a 
Physician to his Patients, to the Families into which he is ad- 
mitted, to other Physicians, and to Society in general. 

Result of Dr. Rush's inquiry into the lives of physicians, 323 

Defects imputed to physicians, and ascribed to the study and practice of 
medicine, 324 

The inquiry, whether the study and practice of medicine tend to originate 
and nourish infidel feelings and sentiments, answered, 325 

Sir Henry Halford quoted respecting the duty of a physician to make his 
patient acquainted with the probable issue of a malady manifesting mor- 
tal symptoms, 327 

The confidential nature of the relation, in which the physician stands to his 
patient, and to the families into which he is admitted, illustrated, . . . 328 

Circumstances in the medical profession which render competition among 
physicians more bitter, than among the members of the other professions, 
adverted to, 329 

The complaints made against physicians, enumerated, 329 

The temperance reformation much indebted to physicians, 330 

CHAPTER III. Moral Influence of the Clergy on Society, in- 
cluding an Estimate of the Clerical Character. 

The morals of the clergy are the natural exemplification of the religion 
which they preach, 331 

" By their fruits we are to know " all men, and, when subjected to this rea- 
sonable test, the Christian clergy, as a body of men, will not be found 
wanting, 331 

But more particularly, — Christianity was planted and built up chiefly by 
the labors, dangers, sufferings, and privations of the clergy, in every 
country which now enjoys its blessings, 332 

The clergy have taken the lead in establishing institutions of learning, and 
other institutions which have meliorated the condition of mankind, . . 335 

The general influence of the parochial clergy on manners, morals, and 
whatever else is ranked under the comprehensive term civilization, has 
been most effective and salutary, 337 

This position confirmed by a striking quotation from Dr. Arnold, and by the 
testimony of the " Edinburgh Review," 337 

Two defects generally imputed to the clergy, examined and answered, . . 339 

CHAPTER IV. Moral Influence and Duties of Men of Letters. 
Men of letters form a class considerable in point of numbers, and still more 
so in respect to the influence which they exercise on society, .... 340 

d 



XXVI ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 

Page 

Men of letters are chiefly responsible for the use which is made of the press, 
the most mighty instrument for good or for evil, ever known, .... 340 

The distinction between the freedom of the press and its licentiousness, 
stated and illustrated, 341 

The press is abused, when it is employed to circulate slander, misrepresen- 
tation, calumny, and falsehood, in any of its forms, modifications, or de- 
grees, 343 

Men of letters criminally abuse the press, when they make their writings 
the vehicle of immoral sentiments, or employ them to rouse and inflame 
the licentious passions, 344 

The press is still more criminally abused, when it is turned to the disparage- 
ment, misrepresentation, and vilification of the Christian religion, . . . 344 

Remarks on the influence of Gibbon's " History of the Decline and Fall of 
the Roman Empire," 346 

Duty and interest of men of letters to use their knowledge for the good of 
society, 346 

It is their duty to supply the public with the materials of reading, of an ap- 
propriate kind and in the greatest abundance, 347 

CHAPTER V. Moral Tendency and Influence of Agriculture as 
a Profession. 

The antiquity, dignity, and importance of agriculture, 348 

Traits of character which the pursuit of agriculture is fitted to cherish, no- 
ticed, 350 

Judge Harper quoted respecting a- difference between the agricultural char- 
acter of the Northern and Southern United States, 350 

CHAPTER VI. Moral Tendency and Influence of Commerce and 
Merchandise as a Profession. 

The reputation of our country for probity and honor depends on our mer- 
chants, more than on any other class of our citizens, 351 

Merchants are the peacemakers of the world, for they show it to be the inter- 
est and happiness of all to remain at peace; they bring distant nations 

together, and teach them to know and aid each other, 352 

The risks and perils incident to the pursuit of commerce, described, . . . 352 

Estimation in which American merchants are held in Europe, 353 

The moral duties imposed on a bankrupt merchant, have respect to the ap- 
proach of his bankruptcy, and again, to the state of things when bank- 
ruptcy has actually overtaken him, 354 

The preference given to endorsers and other preferred creditors in cases of 

bankruptcy, animadverted on, -. 355 

The education requisite for a successful merchant, 358 

Merchants have generally been held in high estimation, 360 

CHAPTER VII. Moral Tendency and Influence of Manufactur- 
ing Establishments. 

Notice of the contents of a Report made to the Legislature of Massachu- 
setts, in 1836, which shows the state of feeling and opinion in that State, 360 



ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. xxvii 

Page 
Evils of manufacturing establishments in England, and which are begin- 
ning to be felt in this country, noticed, and remedies suggested, . . . 362 

CHAPTER VIII. Moral Tendency and Influence of the various 
Mechanical Trades. 

Influence of mechanical employments, according as they are active or se- 
dentary, pursued under shelter or in the open air, 364 

Enumeration of some special moral rules pertaining alike to all the profes- 
sions and employments of life, 365 



PART VI. 



A SPECIAL CONSIDERATION OF CERTAIN DUTIES AND VIR- 
TUES, OF A CHARACTER PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN, AND A 
SIMILAR CONSIDERATION OF CERTAIN VICES AND EVILS 

CHAPTER I. Duty of Forgiving Injuries. 

The importance claimed for this duty in the New Testament, and a notice 

of the difficulties in the way of practising it, 371 

The rule of forgiveness is peculiarly adapted to the nature of man, . . . 373 

It is admirably adapted to man's character and condition, 376 

It is the only way of securing a permanent victory over evil, 378 

The intrinsic nobleness of the rule of forgiveness illustrated, 379 

CHAPTER II. Christian Charity. 

The importance ascribed to charity in the New Testament, 381 

The chief particulars in which this duty consists, illustrated, 382 

The chief cases in which this duty is violated, reviewed, ....... 392 

The chief considerations by which this duty is qualified, 401 

CHAPTER III. Intemperance in Drinking. 

The nature and occasions of intemperance in drinking, 405 

The signs of intemperance, noticed and illustrated, 409 

The chief evils of intemperance, enumerated, . , 414 

The remedies of intemperance, reviewed, 416 

CHAPTER IV. Gaming, including an Examination of the Moral 
Tendency and Influence of the Lottery System. 

Notice of the lottery system as a measure of finance, 419 

The moral tendency and effects of this system, illustrated, 422 

It has reduced many persons to insolvency, 423 

It has led to numerous cases of embezzlement, breach of trust, &c, . . . 424 
Intemperance and suicide have very often been the consequences of this 

system, 424 

The effects of drawing prizes upon those who have drawn them, noticed, 425 
A comparison between the lottery system and ordinary gaming, .... 425 
Tendency of this system to raise up idlers, gamesters, &c, ....*. 427 



XXVlll ANALYSIS OF THE CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. Duelling. 

Difficulty of treating this subject by argument, because the advocates of this 
practice do not defend it in this way, 428 

The paper left by Alexander Hamilton reprinted (in a note), and its reason- 
ings carefully analyzed, 429 

CHAPTER VI. Theatrical Amusements. 

Sentiments of the Old Congress respecting these amusements, 432 

The chief objections felt by the great body of serious Christians against 
theatres and theatrical amusements, stated, 433 

CHAPTER VII. Immoral Influence of Skepticism. 

The skeptical system subverts the foundation of morals, 438 

Its influence on the formation of character is most disastrous, 443 

Especially it nourishes vanity (egotism), ferocity, and sensuality, .... 444 



CONCLUSION. 



Review of the Means which may be relied upon to improve the 
Moral Condition of Mankind, and to advance Human Happiness. 

The moral condition of mankind may be improved, 

1. By the extension of Christianity in the earth, . . . j 453 

2. By extending education and general intelligence, 457 

3. By extending freedom and well-regulated free institutions, 462 

4. By the effectual prohibition of gaming, the lottery system, &c, . , . 463 

5. By correcting public opinion through the press, the pulpit, &c, . . . 464 
Every thing promotive of good morals, is preeminently productive of hap- 
piness ; but, to secure this last end, we must more particularly rely 

1. On still further inventions in labor-saving machinery, 468 

2. On the reformation of our criminal law, and the codification of our law 
generally , so far as the nature of the case permits, ........ 471 

3. On the penitentiary system, contemplated as a means of meliorating the 
condition of mankind, 480 

4. On applying the principles of insurance more extensively than they have 
been hitherto applied, 485 

5. On the prevalence of the spirit and principles of peace 490 



ELEMENTS 



OF 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY 



PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES AND DISCUSSIONS. 

Man may be viewed under several aspects, — he consists 
of body and soul, — he has both an animal and a rational na- 
ture, — he is both an intellectual and a moral being, — he re- 
quires an education suited to his circumstances in this life, 
and to his destiny and prospects in the life to come. On these 
several parts of human nature, several sciences have been found- 
ed, having for their object to investigate and explain the struc- 
ture of the human body, and the faculties of the human un- 
derstanding. These several branches of human nature, — the 
animal, intellectual, and moral, have been recognised at all times 
and by all nations ; and the distinctions on which they rest, are 
even seen in the structure of every language.* It is the object 

* u Words are signs of thought; and from words themselves (without follow- 
ing them through all their inflexions and combinations in the finished structure 
of a language) we may see into the natural feelings and judgments of men 7 
before they become warped by the prejudices of sect, or the subtilties of sys- 
tem. If, in reading the ancient writers, we meet with words describing virtue 
and vice, honor and dishonor, guilt and shame, coupled with the strongest 
epithets of praise or condemnation ; then we are certain that those things ex- 
isted as realities before they became words ; or at least, that in the minds of 
those, who, during the early progress of society, built up the ancient languages, 
they were considered as realities ; and on that account (and that account on- 
ly) had their representatives among the symbols of thought. I believe we 
might in this way make a near approach to a true system of moral philosophy ; 
and our progress would at every step record a series of judgments, not derived 
1 



2 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

of Moral Philosophy, to investigate the moral constitution of 
man and the appropriate sphere of his duties ; to determine the 
standard by which the various branches of duty may be meas- 
ured ; and to prescribe rules for our guidance in the principal 
employments and situations in which men may be called to act, 
and in the chief relations of life which they are accustomed to 
sustain. 

In moral philosophy, as in most other sciences, there is a 
practical part, and a part which may be called theoretical or 
speculative ; and, in respect to the last of these, we shall 
perceive, by adverting to the history of Ethics, that there has 
been quite the usual diversity of sentiment which we are accus- 
tomed to see among men. Socrates, usually called among 
the ancients the Prince of Philosophers, maintained, that an 
action, to be good, must be both useful and honorable (utile 
et honestum) ; and he was accustomed to express the strongest 
disapprobation of those, who, holding that an action might be 
useful without being honorable, first drew a distinction between 
the usefulness and the rectitude of an action.* According to 
Plato, virtue consists in that state of mind in which every 
faculty confines itself within its proper sphere, without en- 
croaching upon that of any other, and performs its proper 
office with that precise degree of strength and vigor which 
belongs to it.f In the view of Aristotle, each particular virtue 
lies in a kind of medium between two opposite vices, of 
which the one offends by being too much, the other by 
being too little, affected by a particular species of objects. 
Thus the virtue of fortitude or courage lies in the medium 
between the opposite vices of cowardice and of presumptuous 
rashness, of which the one offends from being too much, and 

from any doubtful train of reasoning, but forced on men by the very condition 
of their existence." Again, " The judgment of conscience, declaring to us 
that we are responsible for our deeds, is recorded in the language and institu- 
tions of every civilized nation in the history of the world. If this does not 
satisfy the metaphysician, it is at least enough for the Christian moralist, whose 
rule of life is simple, and whose light is clear." — Professor Sedgwick, on the 
Studies of the University of Cambridge, pp. 33, 70. 

* Cic. De Off. Lib. III. c. 3. 

i Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. p. 69. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 3 

the other from being too little, affected by objects of fear. 
Thus, too, the virtue of frugality lies half way between avarice 
and profusion, of which the one consists in an excess, the 
other in a defect, of the proper attention to the objects of self- 
interest. Magnanimity, in the same manner, consists in a me- 
dium between the excess of arrogance and the defect of pusil- 
lanimity, of which the one consists in too extravagant, the 
other in too weak, a sentiment of our own worth and dignity. 
This view is well expressed by Horace, — 

Est modus in rebus; sunt certi denique fines, 
Quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum.* 

Aristotle also made virtue to consist in practical habits ; and, in 
doing this, he probably designed to oppose the doctrine of Plato, 
who seems to have been of the opinion, that just sentiments and 
reasonable judgments, concerning what was fit to be done or to 
be avoided, were alone sufficient to constitute the most perfect 
virtue. Virtue, according to Plato, might be considered as a 
species of science ; and no man, he supposed, could see clearly 
and demonstratively what was right and what was wrong, without' 
acting accordingly. Passion might make us act contrary to 
doubtful and uncertain opinions, not to plain and evident judg- 
ments. Aristotle, on the contrary, was of opinion, that no con- 
viction of the understanding merely, was capable of insuring a 
control over inveterate habits, and that good morals consisted 
not so much in knowledge, as in action. f 

According to Zeno, the founder of the Stoical doctrines, 
virtue consisted in choosing and rejecting all different objects 
and circumstances, according as they were by nature rendered 
more or less the objects of choice or rejection ; in selecting al- 
ways, from among the several objects of choice presented to us, 
those which were most to be chosen, when we could not obtain 
them all ; and in selecting too, out of the several objects of re- 
jection offered to us, those which were least to be avoided, when 
it was not in our power to avoid them all. By choosing and 
rejecting with this just and accurate discernment, by thus be- 
stowing upon every object the precise degree of attention it de- 

* Sat. I. i. 106, 107. I Smith's Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. p. 70= 



4 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

served, according to the place which it held in this natural scale 
of things, was maintained, in the view of the Stoics, that perfect 
rectitude of conduct, which constituted the essence of virtue. 
This was what they called living consistently, living according to 
nature (convenienter naturae vivere), and obeying those laws and 
directions which nature, or the author of nature, has prescribed 
for our conduct.* 

The system of Epicurus agreed with those of Plato, Aris- 
totle, and Zeno, in making virtue to consist in acting in the most 
->vsuitable manner to obtain the primary objects (prima natural) of 
natural desire. It differed from them all in two respects ; 1. 
in the account which it gave of those primary objects of natural 
desire, and, 2. in the account which it gave of the excellence 
of virtue, or of the reason why that quality ought to be esteemed. 

The primary objects of natural desire consisted, according to 
Epicurus, in bodily pleasure and pain, and in nothing else ; 
whereas, according to the other abovenamed philosophers, there 
were many other objects, such as knowledge, such as the happiness 
of our relations, of our friends and of our country, which were 
ultimately desirable for their own sakes. Virtue, moreover, ac- 
cording to Epicurus, did not deserve to be pursued for its own 
sake, nor was itself one of the ultimate objects of natural appe- 
tite, but was eligible only upon account of its tendency to pre- 
vent pain and to procure ease and pleasure. In the opinion of 
the other philosophers, on the contrary, virtue was desirable, not 
merely as the means of procuring the other primary objects of 
natural desire, but as something which was in itself more valua- 
ble than all of them.f 

Nor has this diversity of sentiment on the theory of morals 
been confined to the ancient philosophers. Modern writers have 
not concurred in their views on the theoretical part of the sub- 
ject. The opinion of Dr. Samuel Clarke is, that moral obliga- 
tion is to be referred to the eternal and necessary differences of 
things ; and he makes virtue to consist in acting suitably to the 
different relations in which we stand. Wollaston's theory is, 
that moral good and evil consist in a conformity or disagreement 

* Smith's Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. p. 71. t Idem, p. 93. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 5 

with truth, in treating every thing as being what it is. Lord 
Shaftesbury makes virtue to consist in maintaining a proper bal- 
ance of the affections, and in allowing no passion to go beyond 
its proper sphere. Dr. Paley teaches, that it is the utility of 
any action alone, which constitutes the obligation of it.* Dr. 
Adam Smith resolves moral obligation into propriety, arising 
from feelings of sympathy. Mr. Bush considers the communi- 
cated will of God the grand expositor of human duty ; while 
Dymond says, that this will not merely declares the distinction 
between right and wrong in regard to moral conduct, but also 
is itself the constituting cause of moral good and evil.f The 
immutable principles of morality necessarily result, says Dr. 
Appleton, from the nature of things, and from the relations which 
they have to one another. As God is the author of all things, 
the relations subsisting between them may be considered as de- 
pending on him. But, while objects continue in all respects as 
they are, no change can be produced in their relations. It is 
absurd, continues he, to ascribe to Deity the power of changing 
vice into virtue, or virtue into vice 4 Right and wrong, says 
Dr. Price, denote what a&tjons are. Now whatever any thing 
is, that it is, not by will, or decree, or power, but by nature and 
necessity. Again, the natures of things being immutable, what- 
ever we suppose the natures of actions to be, that they must be 
immutably. If they are indifferent, this indifference is itself 
immutable. The same is to be said of right and wrong, moral ^ 
good and evil, as far as they express real characters of actions. 
They must immutably and necessarily belong to those actions, 
of which they are truly affirmed. § u God hath given us," says 
Bishop Butler, u a moral faculty, by which we distinguish be- 
tween actions, and approve some as virtuous and of good desert, 
and disapprove others as vicious and of ill desert. This moral ' 
discernment," continues he, "implies a rule of action, and a rule 
of a very peculiar kind ; for it carries in it authority and a 
right of decision ; authority in such a sense, that we cannot 

* Ipsa utilitas, justi prope mater et aequi. — Hor. Sat, I. iii. 98. 

t See Editor's Preface to Dymond's Essays, p. 7. t Addresses, p. 103. 

§ Review of Questions on Morals, p. 37. 



6 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

depart from it without being self-condemned. And the dictates 
of this moral faculty, which are by nature a rule to us, are more- 
over the laws of God, laws in a sense including sanctions."* 
But, as great as has been the diversity of opinion and defi- 
nition in regard to the theoretical part of morals, there has been 
a coincidence of sentiment on the 'practical part of the subject, 
as remarkable as it is gratifying. In truth, it may well be doubt- 
ed, whether, beyond the pale of the exact sciences, there has 
been on any subject an equal concurrence of sentiment among 
mankind. " There is no tribe," says the late Sir James Mack- 
intosh, " so rude as to be without a faint perception of a differ- 
ence between right and wrong ; there is no subject on which 
men of all ages and nations coincide in so many points as in the 
general rules of conduct, and in the qualities of the human char- 
acter which deserve esteem. Even the grossest deviations from 
the general consent," continues he, u will appear on close ex- 
amination to be, not so much corruptions of moral feelings, as 
either ignorance of facts, or errors with respect to the conse- 
quences of action- or cases in which the dissentient party is in- 
consistent with other parts of his own principles, which destroys 
the value of his dissent ; or where each dissident is condemned 
by all the other dissidents, which immeasurably augments the 
majority against him." Again he says, "If we bear in mind, 
that the question relates to the coincidence of all men in con- 
sidering the same qualities as virtues, and not to the preference 
of one class of virtues by some, and of a different class by 
others, the exceptions from the agreement of mankind in their 
system of practical morality will be reduced to absolute insig- 
nificance ; and we shall learn to view them as no more affecting 
the harmony of our moral faculties, than the resemblance of the 
limbs and features is affected by monstrous conformations, or by 
the unfortunate effects of accident or disease, in a very few in- 
dividuals."! The same distinguished writer says of Grotius, 
who had cited poets, orators, historians, and philosophers, that 
" he quotes them as witnesses whose conspiring testimony, might- 
ily strengthened and confirmed by their discordance on almost 

* Butler's Works, p. 134. London, 1828. 
t Progress of Ethical Philosophy, pp. 9, 10. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 7 

every other subject, is a conclusive proof of the unanimity of 
the whole human race on the great rules of duty and the fun- 
damental principles of morals." * 

44 The object of Grotius," says Chancellor Kent, u was to 
correct the false theories and pernicious maxims of his time, 
by showing a community of sentiment among the wise and learn- 
ed of all nations and ages, in favor of the natural law of mo- 
rality." Again he says, " Grotius went purposely into the de- 
tails of history and the usages of nations, and resorted to the 
testimony of philosophers, historians, orators, poets, civilians, 
and divines, because they were the materials out of which the 
science of morality was formed ; and when many men, at different 
times and places, unanimously affirmed the same thing for truth, 
it ought to be ascribed to some universal cause." f u Mr. Hume," 
says Sir James Mackintosh again, " at the same time that he in- 
geniously magnifies the moral heresies of two nations so polished 
as the Athenians and the French, still says, c In how many cir- 
cumstances would an Athenian and a Frenchman of merit re- 
semble each other ? Humanity, fidelity, truth, justice, courage, \ 
temperance, constancy, dignity of mind.' Of this conclusion it 
has been well said, that Mr. Hume has very satisfactorily re- 
solved his own difficulties ; and that almost every deviation which 
he imputes to each nation, is at variance with some of the vir- 
tues justly esteemed by both ; and that the reciprocal condemna- 
tion of each other's errors, which appears in his statement, enti- 
tles us, on these points, to strike out the suffrages of both, when 
collecting the general judgment of mankind." J 

" The sentiments upon which men differ so greatly," says 
Voltaire, "are not necessary to men; it is even impossible 
that they should be necessary, for this reason alone, that the 
truth respecting them is hidden from us. It was indispensable, 
that all fathers and mothers should love their children ; there- 
fore they do love them. It was necessary that there should be 
some general principles of morals, in order that society might 
subsist ; therefore these principles are the same among all civil- 

* Discourse on the Law of Nations, p. 24. London, 1828. 
f Commentaries on American Law, Vol. I. pp. 16, 17. 
X Mackintosh's Progress of Ethical Philosophy, p. 10. 



\ 



8 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

ized nations. Whatever is an eternal subject of dispute is 
always useless." # u We have implanted in us by Providence," 
says Mr. Burke, " ideas, axioms, rules, of what is pious, just, 
fair, honest, which no political craft, nor learned sophistry, can 
entirely expel from our breasts." f 

Lord Karnes, after an imposing array of exceptions, says ; 
u These facts tend not to disprove the reality of a common sense 
in morals ; they only prove, that the moral sense has not been 
equally perfect at all times, nor in all countries. A nation, 
like an individual, ripens gradually, and acquires a refined taste 
in morals as well as in the fine arts ; after which we find great 
uniformity of opinion about the rules of right and wrong ; with 
few exceptions, but what may proceed from imbecility or cor- 
rupted education. There may be found, it is true, even in the 
most enlightened ages, men who have singular notions in mo- 
rality, and in many other subjects ; which no more affords an 
argument against a common sense or standard of right and wrong, 
than a monster doth against the standard that regulates our ex- 
ternal form, or than an exception doth against the truth of a 
general proposition." Again he says, " That there is in man- 
kind a uniformity of opinion with respect to right and wrong, 
is a matter of fact, of which the only infallible evidence is ob- 
servation and experience, and to that evidence I appeal. This 
uniformity of sentiment, which may be termed the common sense 
of mankind with respect to right and wrong, is essential to 
x social beings. Did the moral sentiments of men differ as much 
as their faces, they would be unfit for society ; discord and 
controversy would be endless, and the law of the strongest 
would be the only rule of right and wrong." J 

All men, then, agree, that there are acts which ought to be 
done, and acts which ought not to be done ; the far greater part 
- N of mankind agree in their list of virtues and duties, of vices and 
crimes ; and the whole human race, as it advances in other im- 
provements, is as evidently tending towards the moral system of 
the most cultivated nations, as children, in their growth, tend to 

* Lettre a Madame la Marquise du Deffand. f Works, Vol. I. p. 41. 
X Sketches of. Man, Vol. IV. pp. 19-21, 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 9 

the opinions as much as to the experience of full-grown men.* 
William Penn, in the council and consultation "which he held 
with the Indians of his province in 1683, found that these 
savages believed in a state of future retribution, and that the 
vices enumerated by them, as those which would consign them 
to punishment, corresponded remarkably with similar enume- 
rations in the Christian Scriptures. They said that lying, 
theft, swearing, murder, and the like, would expose them to 
punishment in a future life ; and the New Testament affirms, that 
those who are guilty of adultery, fornication, lying, theft, mur- 
der, &c, shall not inherit the kingdom of God." f We may con- 
clude, therefore, with Dr. Hartley, that "the rule of life drawn 
from the practice and opinions of mankind, corrects and im- 
proves itself perpetually, till at last it determines entirely for 
virtue, and excludes all kinds and degrees of vice. "J 

But this position admits of still further authoritative confirma- 
tion. " History," says Sir James Mackintosh, " is now a vast 
museum, in which specimens of every variety of human nature 
may be studied. From those great accessions to knowledge, 
lawgivers and statesmen, but above all, moralists and political 
philosophers, may reap the most important instruction. They 
may plainly discover, in all the useful and beautiful variety of 
governments and institutions, and under all the fantastic multi- 
tude of usages and rites which have prevailed among men, the 
same fundamental, comprehensive truths, the same master prin- 
ciples which are the guardians of human society, recognised and 
revered (with few and slight exceptions) by every nation upon 
earth, and uniformly taught (with still fewer exceptions) by a 
succession of wise men from the first dawn of speculation to 
the present moment. The exceptions, few as they are, will, on 
more reflection, be found rather apparent than real. If we 
could raise ourselves to that height from which we ought to 
survey so vast a subject, these exceptions would altogether van- 
ish ; the brutality of a handful of savages would disappear 
in the immense prospect of human nature, and the murmurs of 

* Mackintosh's Progress of Ethical Philosophy, p. 1 1. 

t See Dymond's Essays on Morality, pp. 72, 73. 

t Quoted by Sir James Mackintosh in his Progress, &c, p. 11. 

2 



10 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

a few licentious sophists would not ascend to break the general 
harmony. This consent of mankind in first principles, and this 
endless variety in their application, which is one among many 
valuable truths which we may collect from our present exten- 
sive acquaintance with the history of man, is itself of vast im- 
portance."* 

Dr. Paley has, it is true, presented an imposing array of vices 
and crimes practised in some age or country, and countenanced 
by public opinion ; but, in doing this, he has most manifestly 
mistaken the exceptions for the rules which govern human sen- 
timents and conduct. This might be made very clear by a 
careful analysis of the subject ; but it may be still more satis- 
factory to permit Dr. Paley to destroy his own position, by cit- 
ing his authority against himself. cc The direct object of Chris- 
tianity," says this valuable writer, "is to supply motives and 
not rules, sanctions and not precepts. And these," continues 
he, " were what mankind stood most in need of. The mem- 
bers of civilized society can, in all ordinary cases, judge toler- 
ably well how they ought to act ; but, without a future state, 
or, which is the same thing, without credited evidence of that 
state, they want a motive to their duty ; they want at least 
strength of motive sufficient to bear up against the force of pas- 
sion, and the temptation of present advantage."! This obser- 
vation rests entirely on the admission, that men substantially 
concur in their views of practical morals. Again, he says, 
still more decisively, " that moralists, from whatever different 
principles they set out, commonly meet in their conclusions ; 
that is, they enjoin the same conduct, prescribe the same rules 
of duty, and, with a few exceptions, deliver upon dubious cases 
the same determinations."^ Here we have the clear and deci- 
sive authority of Dr. Paley himself, in favor of the substantial 
agreement of mankind in the department of practical morals. 
This general concurrence of sentiment lays a firm and safe foun- 
dation on which to build a superstructure. 

The practical department of moral philosophy contemplates 

* Discourse on the Law of Nations, pp. 35, 36. 

t Evidences of Christianity, p. 224. London, 1825. 

t Moral and Political Philosophy, pp. 34, 35. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 11 

two objects ; the formation and cultivation of a permanent, 
strong, and delicate sense of duty ; and a knowledge of the 
chief principles and rules, which determine our duty in the va- 
rious situations and relations of life. 

It may be said with the most perfect truth, that there is no 
quality of the human character so fundamental as the possession 
of a high and permanent sense of duty. It is composed of the 
choicest elements of character, the passions under the control of 
the reason, the will directed by the understanding, a conscience 
alive to the most delicate moral impressions, and suitable motives 
steadily and effectually influencing the conduct. It is something 
more than an upright intention ; this is often seen in persons 
whose sense of duty is comparatively slight ; it includes an ac- 
tive, vigilant, persevering desire of practical usefulness. 

The sense of duty gives a tone to the entire character and 
conduct of the man. It leads him to act from fixed and well 
considered principles of action, and not from passion, preju- 
dice, and the impulse of the occasion and of the moment. The 
supreme object in the mind of every good man is, the upright 
discharge of the full measure of his duty ; and in this discharge 
consist the highest honor and happiness, which human nature is 
capable of attaining. Cicero well says, " No part of life, public 
or private, in the business of the forum or in domestic affairs, 
in regard to ourselves or as we stand in relation to other men, is 
without the obligation of duty, and in the discharge of these 
obligations consists all the honor of life ; as, on the other hand, 
all baseness and dishonor spring from the neglect of them."* 
Every man, then, has his own sphere of duty., his peculiar field 
of usefulness, the cultivation or neglect of which will inevitably*" 
lead to honor or dishonor, approbation or reproach, general 
credit or public shame, to the torments of remorse on the one 
hand, or on the other to the peace of mind which passeth all 
understanding. f 

A sense of duty, therefore, includes all the qualities of mind 
and heart which are accustomed to be esteemed most valuable, 

* De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 2. 

t See Mackintosh on the Study and Practice of the Law, pp. 20 - 26. 



12 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

and which, in their practice, have ever been found most difficult. 
Its exercise requires physical courage of the highest order, as 
it sometimes brings us into collision with the passions and in- 
terests of the powerful. It requires moral courage of an equally 
high order, as it may compel us to meet and to brave the frowns, 
the rebukes, and the scorn of public opinion. It implies a sac- 
rifice of ease, as it calls for patient labor and unremitting ac- 
tivity. Apparent self-interest must frequently be sacrificed to 
its dictates ; for the cases are not few, in which duty seems to 
call one way and interest another. Magnanimity is necessary to 
its full exercise, since this many times requires us to pass by 
the neglect, the provocations, and the overbearing conduct of 
other men. It requires us to fulfil the law of Christian love, 
by regarding and treating every man as our neighbour, whose 
comfort and interest it is in our power to consult, and whose 
welfare, moral or spiritual, it is in our power to advance. All 
these qualities, and many more, so trying to human nature, and 
requiring in their exercise the best qualities of the heart and of 
the understanding, are combined in the sense of duty, when 
most perfectly cultivated and matured. 

The sense of duty being thus complex, — consisting of the 
choicest elements of feeling, sentiment, and action, is difficult to 
be analyzed completely, — we must, therefore, be contented with 
such an imperfect analysis, as, with the aid of the preceding ob- 
servations, we can make. It embraces, — 1. A moral sense, 
that is, a sense of moral obligation and responsibility. 2. The 
having a reasonable, definite, and valuable object of pursuit in 
life, and the being governed in our conduct by moral and religious 
rules. No one can have any sense of duty who is conscious of 
living for no purpose, and of being governed by no moral rule.* 
3. In a Christian country, and in a cultivated state of society, it 
further consists in a supreme regard to the authority of God, and 
a regard for all other men viewed as brethren of the same great 
family. 4. A conscientious regulation of our lives and conver- 
sations with reference to the rewards and punishments of the life 
to come as well as of the present life. 5. Industry, activity, 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 30. — Persius, Sat. III. 60-62. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 13 

patience, and perseverance, in the sphere of duty and usefulness, 
however humble, which, in the order of Providence, has been 
assigned us. 

No man supremely devoted to habits of self-indulgence, self- 
gratification, personal ease, and sloth, can be much under the in- 
fluence of a sense of duty. It is this sense of duty, which is the 
mainspring of all that is noble and praiseworthy in human char- 
acter and conduct; and it is this especially, which it is the object 
of moral philosophy to strengthen and otherwise cultivate. It is 
this sense of duty, which has led men of the best hopes and 
talents in every age and nation, without expectation of reward, 
to devote themselves to the service of their country and the 
good of mankind. It was this sense of duty, which led Wash- 
ington and his illustrious compatriots to undertake the arduous 
and unpromising enterprise of the American revolution, and to 
sustain the labors, hardships, discouragements, and the thousand 
other trials, by which they wrought out the political salvation of 
their country. It was this which led the philanthropic Howard 
" to visit all Europe, — not to survey the sumptuousness of 
palaces, or the stateliness of temples ; not to make accurate 
measurements of the remains of ancient grandeur, not to form a 
scale of the curiosity of modern arts, nor to collect medals or 
collate manuscripts ; — but to dive into the depths of dungeons ; 
to plunge into the infection of hospitals, to survey the mansions 
of sorrow and pain ; to take the gauge and dimensions of misery, 
depression, and contempt ; to remember the forgotten, to attend to 
the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and compare and collate 
the distresses of all men in all countries. " # It was this, which 
led the apostles of our Saviour, and other early preachers of his 
gospel and original witnesses of his miracles, voluntarily to sub- 
ject themselves to unexampled labors, dangers, and sufferings, in 
attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in 
consequence of their belief of these accounts, and, from the same 
motives, to submit to new and unusual rules of life and conduct. f 
It is the same sense of duty, which has led the preachers of 
Christianity, in every age, to devote themselves to the intellectual, 

* Mr. Burke's Eulogium. i See Paley's Evidences of Christianity. 



14 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

moral, and spiritual interests of mankind, with a zeal, a disinter- 
estedness, and a perseverance, unknown to any other class of men. 
And it is this, moreover, which is, at this time, leading many 
Christian missionaries to forsake friends, parents, country, and all 
earthly prospects, for the sake of planting the standard of the 
Cross in the remotest corners of the earth. 

It has before been said, that the sense of duty implies a moral 
sense, — an authoritative standard of human conduct. Now, the 
decisions of the conscience of each individual are, with respect 
to him, the authoritative rules of his conduct, and the supreme 
and ultimate guide of his life. The conscience is that principle 
of the mind, whose prerogative it is to prescribe, in morals, to 
every other, and to pronounce the definitive sentence from which 
there is no appeal. The fundamental importance of this position, 
and especially the present state of public sentiment, of literature, 
and of intellectual philosophy, and the prevailing habits of think- 
ing and reasoning, render some illustration of it useful and ne- 
cessary. 

To an unsophisticated mind, it may appear surprising, that it 
should be necessary to delay, for the sake of establishing the 
existence of conscience in the human breast, or of vindicating its 
claim to be the great and ultimate guide of the moral sentiments 
and actions of mankind. And, if some traces of the same error 
and perversion are found in the writings of the ancient moralists, 
— still it may be said, with the utmost truth, to have been re- 
served for very late times, to build up and sanction a system of 
sophistry in metaphysics and morals, which, by denying the ex- 
istence, has obscured the decisions of conscience, and has thus 
been enabled to substitute a false measure of human duty, and 
a standard of right and wrong in human conduct, which must fluc- 
tuate with the ever-varying prejudices, passions, opinions, and 
interests of mankind. A succession of eminent writers, led on 
by the celebrated David Hume, have, within the last century, 
given plausibility and currency to the theory, that the utility of 
actions is the only criterion of their rectitude, and the supreme 
standard of their obligation. This theory of morals, as unsound 
and superficial as it is, which makes virtue a subject of calcu- 
lation, and, withdrawing the attention from all internal sentiments, 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 15 

as well as destroying their authority, loses sight of the essential 
distinction between right and wrong, and confounds the boun- 
daries of vice and virtue, having been incautiously admitted by 
Dr. Paley as the basis of his moral system, has acquired a 
degree of public confidence and favor, which, under the auspices 
of a less respectable and estimable name, it could never have 
attained. 

By this theory, the jurisdiction of conscience is abolished, her 
decisions are classed with those of a superannuated judge, and 
the determination of moral causes is adjourned from the interior 
tribunal of the breast to the noisy forum of speculative debate. 
Nothing is yielded to the suggestions of conscience, nothing to 
the movements of the heart ; every thing is dealt out with a 
sparing hand, under the stint and measure of calculation. In 
making expediency the ground of all moral obligation, Dr. Paley 
could not have anticipated to what lengths his doctrine would 
be carried, or to what purposes, in other hands, it would be ap- 
plied under the sanction of his name, or how completely it might 
be made to subvert morality and religion, by substituting the 
looseness of speculation and opinion for the stability of fixed 
principle. The utility of an action, may, as will hereafter be 
seen, be very suitably made a subordinate criterion of its rec- 
titude^ but can never be made the ultimate and supreme standard 
of all right and wrong, without degrading virtue to the rank of an 
ordinary problem in arithmetic. Let us return, then, to the safe 
and sober paths of our ancestors, adhering, in all moral questions, 
to the dictates of conscience, regulated and otherwise enlight- 
ened ; happy to enjoy, instead of the sparks of our own kindling, 
the benefit of that light, which, placed in the moral firmament by 
an Almighty hand, has led, in the way of safety, all who have 
been willing to trust to its guidance. 

Nor, in submitting to be guided by the doctrine of expediency 
on moral subjects, have we deviated less from the example of 
heathen antiquity than from the way of our sober and pious 
Christian ancestors. "The philosophers of (heathen) antiquity," 
says a most valuable writer, " in the absence of superior light, 
consulted with reverence the permanent principles of nature, the 
dictates of conscience, and the best feelings of the heart, which 



16 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

they employed all the powers of reason and eloquence to unfold, 
to adorn, to enforce ; and thereby formed a luminous commen- 
tary on the law written on the heart. The virtue which they 
inculcated grew out of the stock of human nature ; it was a warm 
and living virtue. It was the moral man, possessing, in every 
limb and feature, in all its figure and movements, the harmony, 
dignity, and variety, which belong to the human form ; an effort of 
unassisted nature to restore that image of God, which sin had 
mutilated and defaced. Imperfect, as might be expected, their 
morality was often erroneous ; but in its great outlines, it had all 
the stability of the human constitution, and its fundamental prin- 
ciples were coeval and coexistent with human nature. There 
could be nothing fluctuating and arbitrary in its more weighty 
decisions, since it appealed every moment to the man within the 
breast ; it pretended to nothing more than to give voice and ar- 
ticulation to the inward sentiments of the heart, and conscience 
echoed to its oracles. This, wrought into different systems and 
under various modes of illustration, was the general form which 
morality exhibited from the creation of the world till our time."* 

Aristotle has discriminated, classified, and arranged the ele- 
ments of social morals, which alone he could treat, in the absence 
of revelation, with the acuteness, precision, and skill, with which 
he was so eminently endowed ; and whoever peruses his " Nico- 
machian Morals," will find a perpetual reference to the inward 
sentiments of the breast. He builds every thing on human na- 
ture, and always takes it for granted, that there is a moral facul- 
ty in the mind, to which, without looJcing elsewhere, we may 
safely appeal. He has been styled the interpreter of nature, 
and has certainly shown himself a most able commentator on 
the law written in the heart. In like manner, Cicero drew his 
moral sentiments from the undefiled fountain of an unsophisticated 
conscience, and vindicated the claims of this faculty with equal 
decision and clearness. 

In this state, revelation found the moral system of the an- 
cients, and by correcting what was erroneous, supplying what 
was defective, and above all, confirming what was right by its 

* Robert Hall's Works, Vol. I. p. 97. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 17 

peculiar sanctions of a future life of rewards and punishments, it 
conferred on it that perfection, of which it is itself the consum- 
mation. We have, then, with some comparatively late excep- 
tions, the concurring authority of ancient and modern times, for 
making conscience the umpire in all moral inquiries. But to 
give more definiteness as well as expansion to our views on this 
fundamental point, it may still be useful to review very briefly 
the chief considerations and arguments, on which the doctrine of 
a conscience in the human breast may be made to rest.* 

1. We may do much towards convincing ourselves of the exist- 
ence and office of conscience, by consulting our own personal 
experience. Our recollections must inform us, with what effect, 
when children, an appeal was made to the admonitions of our 
own breasts, if at any time we had been guilty of injustice, false- 
hood, cruelty, or any other species of wrong-doing. Remorse is 
a peculiar and well-defined feeling, the most painful of all human 
sufferings. Its stings do not seem to spring from reason, from 
judgment, from memory, from imagination ; — they seem, on the 
contrary, to spring from a distinct faculty of the mind, — a con- 
science. When we find that the great principles of rectitude 
have been violated by human tribunals, we familiarly speak of the 
difference between the decisions of the forum humanum, and 
the forum conscientice ; and, in doing this, we refer to the un- 
perverted decisions of the conscience, called, in the Roman 
Law,f by a most noble and significant metaphor, the interior 
forum. 

2. We shall see still further proof of the existence of con- 
science, by the observations we must have made on the feelings, 
sentiments, and actions of those with whom we have been ac- 
customed to hold intercourse. We have the same evidence of 
the existence of conscience in those with whom we converse, 
and otherwise maintain intercourse, which we have of memory, 
imagination, or any other faculty of the mind. In addressing all 
other men, we assume that they are governed by a moral sense, 
or conscience, to which we may successfully appeal. "It is 

* See Robert Hall's Works, Vol. I. pp. 89/97, 99, 101. 
t North American Review, Vol. XXII. p. 260. — Story's Commentaries on 
Equity, Vol. I. chap. 1, passim. 

3 



18 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

manifest," says Bishop Butler, " great part of common language 
and of common behaviour over the world, is founded upon the 
supposition of a moral faculty, whether called conscience, moral 
reason, moral sense, or divine reason ; whether considered as a 
sentiment of the understanding or as a perception of the heart, 
or, which seems the truth, as including both." Again, he says 
of conscience, " To preside and govern, from the very economy 
and constitution of man, belongs to it. This faculty was placed 
within to be our proper governor, to direct and regulate all undue 
principles, passions, and motives of action. It carries its own 
authority with it, that it is our natural guide, the guide assigned 
us by the Author of our nature." * 

3. The substantial uniformity and consistency, which, as has 
been stated and illustrated above, f mankind have manifested in 
all ages in regard to practical morals, are most naturally and fully 
accounted for by ascribing them to a peculiar faculty, a conscience. 
From uniformity in the effeot, we infer sameness in the cause. 
In government, literature, science, philosophy, taste, the fine 
arts, theoretical morals, finally, on all subjects, except the exact 
sciences and 'practical morals, men differ widely from each other 
(Quot homines, tot sententice, says Terence,) in opinion and in 
sentiment. 

4. We may find evidence of the existence of a conscience 
in the human breast, in the structure of languages, and in the 
literature of various ages and nations. The language of a na- 
tion is the most permanent and authentic record which can 
exist, of the feelings, thoughts, sentiments, opinions, and con- 
victions of the men who have formed, cultivated, and used it. 
And all languages contain words, constructions, and forms of 
expression, which spring from assuming the existence and func- 
tions of a conscience. Literature, also, most intimately con- 
nected as it is with language, offers its evidence to the same 
effect. 

5. It may be well to collect and embody some small part of 
the testimony to the same effect, furnished by the most respect- 
able and valuable writers. This testimony is of every kind, 
premeditated and casual, designed and incidental. It is given 

* Quoted by Dymond, Essays, p. 61. t See above, pp. 6-9. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 19 

by divines, moralists, poets, orators, civilians, historians, philoso- 
phers, and men of business. So much notice has before been 
taken of the general tone and character of the ancient moralists, 
that I may pass them by with a few citations. Plutarch says, 
" The light of truth is a law, not written in tables or books, but 
dwelling in the mind, always a living rule, which never permits 
the soul to be destitute of an interior guide." Hiero says, 
that the universal light, shining in the conscience, is u a domestic 
God, a God within the hearts and souls of men." Epictetus 
says, " God has assigned to each man a director, his own good 
genius ; a guardian whose vigilance no slumbers interrupt, and 
whom no false reasonings can deceive. So that, when you have 
shut your door, say not that you are alone, for your God is 
within. What need have you of outward light to discover what 
is done, or to light to good actions, who have God, or that genius 
or divine principle, for your light ? " 

My quotations from modern writers will be much more nu- 
merous. Dr. Hutcheson says, "The Author of nature has 
much better furnished us for a virtuous conduct than our moralists 
seem to imagine, by almost as quick and powerful instructions as 
we have for the preservation of our bodies." Dr. Blair says, 
" Conscience is felt to act as the delegate of an invisible ruler. 
Conscience is the guide, or the enlightening or directing princi- 
ple of our conduct." Again he says, " God has invested con- 
science with authority to promulgate his laws." Dr. Rush says, 
" It would seem as if the Supreme Being had preserved the 
moral faculty in man from the ruins of his fall, on purpose to 
guide him back again to Paradise ; and, at the same time, had 
constituted the conscience, both in man and fallen spirits, a kind 
of royalty in his moral empire, on purpose to show his property 
in all intelligent creatures, and their original resemblance to him- 
self." Again he says, " Happily for the human race, the inti- 
mations of Deity and the road to happiness are not left to the 
slow operations or doubtful inductions of reason. It is worthy 
of notice, that, while second thoughts are best in matters of 
judgment, first thoughts are always to be preferred in matters that 
relate to morality." Lord Bacon says, " The light of nature not 
only shines upon the human mind through the medium of a 



20 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

rational faculty, but by an internal instinct according to the law 
of conscience, which is a sparkle of the purity of man's first 
estate." Lord Shaftesbury says, " The sense of right and wrong 
being as natural to us as natural affection itself, and being a first 
principle in our constitution and make, there is no speculation, 
opinion, persuasion, or belief, which is capable immediately or 
directly to exclude or destroy it." Dr. Reid says, u The first 
principles of morals are the immediate dictates of the moral 
faculty. By the moral faculty or conscience solely, we have the 
original conception of right and wrong. It is evident, that this 
principle has, from its nature, authority to direct and determine 
with regard to our conduct ; to judge, to acquit or condemn, 
and even to punish ; an authority which belongs to no other 
principle of the human mind. The Supreme Being has given us 
this light within to direct our moral conduct. It is the candle 
of the Lord set up within us, to guide our steps." Dr. Price 
says, " Whatever our consciences dictate to us, that He (the 
Deity) commands more evidently and undeniably, than if by a 
voice from Heaven we had been called upon to do it." Dr. 
Watts says, the mind " contains in it the plain and general prin- 
ciples of morality, not explicitly as propositions, but only as na- 
tive principles, by which it judges, and cannot but judge, virtue 
to be fit and vice unfit." Dr. Cudworth says, " The anticipa- 
tions of morality do not spring merely from notional ideas, or 
from certain rules or propositions, arbitrarily printed upon the 
soul as upon a book, but from some other more inward and vital 
principle in intellectual beings as such, whereby they have a 
natural determination in them to do some things and to avoid 
others." Dr. Shepherd says, " This law is that innate sense of 
right and wrong, of virtue and vice, which every man carries in 
his own bosom. These impressions, operating on the mind of 
man, bespeak a law written on his heart. This secret sense of 
right and wrong, for wise purposes so deeply implanted by our 
Creator in the human mind, has the nature, force, and effect of 
a law." Dr. Southey speaks of u actions being tried by the 
eternal standard of right and wrong, on which the unsophisticated 
heart unerringly pronounces." Dr. Adam Smith says, "It is 
altogether absurd and unintelligible, to suppose that the first per- 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 21 

ceptions of right and wrong can be derived from reason. These 
first perceptions cannot be the object of reason, but of immedi- 
ate sense and feeling. Though man has been rendered the im- 
mediate judge of mankind, an appeal lies from his sentence to a 
much higher tribunal, to the tribunal of their own consciences, 
to that of the man within the breast, the great judge and arbiter of 
their conduct." " Conscience, conscience," exclaims Rousseau, 
" divine instinct, immortal and heavenly voice, sure guide of a 
being ignorant and limited, but intelligent and free, infallible judge 
of good and evil, by which man is made like unto God." Again 
he says, " Our own conscience is the most enlightened philos- 
opher. There is no need to be acquainted with Tully's Offices 
to make a man of probity ; and perhaps the most virtuous woman 
in the world is the least acquainted with the definition of virtue." 
Milton says, in regard to our first parents, 

" And I will place within them, as a guide, 
My umpire Conscience ; whom if they will hear, 
Light after light well used they shall attain."* 

Sir Matthew Hale says, " Any man that sincerely and truly fears 
Almighty God, and calls and relies on him for his direction, has 
it as really as a son has the counsel and direction of his father ; 
and, though the voice be not audible or discernible by sense, yet 
it is equally as real as if a man heard a voice saying, This is the 
way, walk ye in it." " There is a principle of reflection in 
men," says Bishop Butler, "by which they distinguish between, 
approve and disapprove, their own actions. We are plainly con- 
stituted such sort of creatures as to reflect upon our own nature. 
The mind can take a view of what passes within itself, its pro- 
pensions, aversions, passions, affections, as respecting such ob- 
jects and in such degrees ; and of the several actions consequent 
thereupon. In this survey, it approves of one and disapproves 
of another, and towards a third is affected in neither of these 
ways, but is quite indifferent. This principle in man, by which 
he approves or disapproves his heart, temper, and actions, is 
conscience ; for this is the strict sense of the word, though 
sometimes it is used so as to take in more. And that this faculty 

* Paradise Lost, III. 194. 



22 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

tends to restrain men from doing mischief to each other, and leads 
them to do good, is too manifest to need being insisted upon." * 

Finally, Dr. Paley, where not pledged to a particular system, 
writes thus ; " Conscience, our own conscience, is to be our 
guide in all things. It is through the whisperings of conscience, 
that the Spirit speaks. If men are wilfully deaf to their con- 
sciences, they cannot hear the Spirit. If hearing, if being com- 
pelled to hear, the remonstrances of conscience, they neverthe- 
less decide, and resolve, and determine to go against them, then 
they grieve, then they defy, then they do despite to the Spirit of 
God. Is this superstition ? Is it not, on the contrary, a just 
and reasonable piety, to implore of God the guidance of his 
Holy Spirit when we have any thing of great importance to de- 
cide upon or undertake. It being confessed that we cannot 
ordinarily distinguish, at the time, the suggestions of the Spirit 
from the operations of our minds, it may be asked, How are we 
to listen to them ? The answer is, by attending universally to 
the admonitions within us." f The number of testimonies which 
I have introduced is considerable, because, being in a great 
measure a case of personal experience, it is well to subjoin au- 
thority to argument. The testimonies are of the most respect- 
able kind, and their number might have been easily enlarged. 
They are derived from many ages and from several countries. 
There is considerable variety of phraseology among the authors 
quoted, as might be expected, but they all concur in recognising 
a moral faculty in the mind, in affirming that this faculty possesses 
wisdom to direct us aright, that its directions are given instanta- 
neously as the individual needs them, and that it is invested with 
unquestionable authority to command. J 

6. The existence and office of conscience seems manifestly 
to be recognised by Scripture. " When the Gentiles," says 

* Quoted by Upham, Mental Philosophy, p. 525. 

t Quoted by Dymond, Essays, p. 65. See Paley's third Sermon on the " In- 
fluence of the Holy Spirit." There are various other passages in his Sermons, 
in which he refers to conscience as the umpire in morals. In his Moral Phi- 
losophy, in which he has discarded a moral sense or conscience, he was led 
astray by the theory to which he had pledged himself. 

X In making the above collection of authorities, the author has, to a consid- 
erable extent, availed himself of the labors of Dymond. Essays, pp. 60-66. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 23 

St. Paul, " which have not the law, do by nature the things 
contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto 
themselves ; which show the work of the law written in their 
hearts, their conscience (ovvsldrjaig) also bearing witness, and 
their thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one an- 
other." * The latter part of this passage is translated by Dr. 
Macknight thus ; " Their conscience bearing witness thereto, as 
also their debates with one another ; in which they either accuse 
one another of evil actions, or else defend each other when so 
accused." And he comments on the passage thus ; " The re- 
ality of a natural revelation " (by which he means the testimony 
of conscience) "made to the heathen, the Apostle has proved 
by three arguments. 1. By the pious and virtuous actions which 
many of the heathens performed. 2. By the natural operation 
of their conscience. 3. By their reasonings with one another, 
in which they either accused or excused one another. For, in 
their accusations and defences, they must have appealed to some 
law or rule. Thus, in the compass of two verses, the Apostle 
has explained what the light of nature is, and demonstrated that 
there is such a light existing. It is a revelation from God, writ- 
ten on the heart or mind of man ; consequently is a revelation 
common to all nations."! 

Again, St. Paul was accustomed "to live in all good con- 
science before God " ; he " exercised himself to have always a 
conscience void of offence toward God, and toward man." He 
speaks of " his conscience bearing him witness in the Holy 
Ghost," that is, under the guidance of the Holy Ghost ; his 
rejoicing consisted in the testimony of his conscience, that in 
simplicity and godly sincerity, he had had his conversation in 
the world. By manifestation of the truth, he commended himself 
to every man's conscience in the sight of God ; he makes the 
end of the commandment to consist in charity out of a pure 
heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned ; he 
exhorted his Roman converts to be subject to civil government, 
not only for wrath, but also for conscience' sake ; he enjoins 
upon ministers of the gospel, to hold the mystery of the faith 

* Romans, ii. 14, 15. t Note on Romans, ii. 15. 



24 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

in a pure conscience ; he was made manifest to God, and also 
to the consciences of his Corinthian converts. St. Peter makes 
the saving effects of baptism to depend, not on the putting away 
of the filth of the flesh, but on the answer of a good conscience 
toward God. 

Besides, the sacred writers constantly speak of persons con- 
victed by their own conscience ; — holding faith and a good 
conscience ; — having their mind and conscience defiled ; — hav- 
ing their hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience ; — and a con- 
science seared with a hot iron, through long familiarity with sin.* 
What meaning have terms and phrases like these, if we may, at 
our will, strip conscience of its sanction, and regard it no longer 
as a heaven-born rule of action ? The Scripture always speaks 
of conscience, not as a term of convention, a mere creation 
of the social system, but as an umpire planted in our breasts 
by the hand of our Maker, to preside there and pass judg- 
ment on our actions. A conscience combined to a certain 
degree, with power of choice and liberty of action, not only 
distinguishes us from the lower beings of creation, but constitutes 
the very essence of our responsibility, both to God and man.f 

The connexion renders appropriate three remarks, which also 
naturally spring from the preceding discussion. 1. The con- 
science, like other faculties of the mind, is capable of great 
improvement by cultivation, and of great debasement by neglect, 
and especially by habits of ignorance and vice. We find the 
consciences of some men delicate, susceptible, and alive to the 
slightest wrong. If they have been guilty of offences, or even 
of serious indiscretions, they are overwhelmed with shame and 
self-reproach. A sense of duty with them takes precedence 
of all other considerations, and is the governing principle of their 
conduct. A consciousness of duty disregarded is to them the 
greatest of evils, and a conscience satisfied with the full and 
honest discharge of duty, the greatest of blessings. In others, 
" the still small voice " of conscience, the fruit of whose 

* See Acts xiii. 1 ; xxiv. 16 ; Rom. ix. 1 ; 2 Cor. i. 12 ; iv. 2; 1 Tim. i. 5 j 
Rom. xiii. 5 ; 1 Tim. iii. 9 ; 2 Cor. v. 11 ; 1 Pet. iii. 21 ; Tit. i. 15 ; John viii. 
9; Heb. x. 2, 22; xiii. 18; 1 Tirn. i. 19; iv. 2. 

t See Prof. Sedgwick, on the Studies of the University of Cambridge, p. 52. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 25 

promptings is seen in the lives of the pure and the virtuous, 
has long since ceased to be regarded ; stifled as it is, amid the 
ragings and clamor of passion, and the practice of iniquity. Such 
are said, in the strong language of Scripture, to have their con- 
sciences seared with a hot iron. # They have become insen- 
sible to all moral considerations and influences. They have 
refused to listen to the sure guide given them by their Maker, 
to guide them amidst the temptations, the seductions, and the 
perplexities of life. Uninfluenced by moral principles, and re- 
gardless of the sacred obligations of duty, they become the sport 
of chance, of caprice, of humor, of impulse, of prejudice, of 
passion, and of circumstance. We have, then, no talent in- 
trusted to our care, the due cultivation and improvement of which 
is so essential as this ; no talent, the neglect of which will be 
so fatal to our usefulness and happiness. 

2. We have seen the substantial uniformity and consistency 
of sentiment, which have prevailed among men, both in ancient 
and modern times, in regard to the practical department of 
morals, f And we can now understand, why this coincidence 
of sentiment has not been still more uniform and complete. 
Like all other faculties of the mind, conscience sometimes fails 
fully to perform its office. This is equally the case with mem- 
ory and reason. The one does not bring every thing past to 
our remembrance ; and the other sometimes leads us astray, both 
in the affairs of life, and in matters of abstract science. As in 
the case of reason, too, conscience is sometimes perverted. 
Under the influence of strong prejudice and passion, every 
object is discolored, the attention is completely absorbed, and 
all the powers of the mind are disturbed. Under such circum- 
stances, neither the conscience, the memory, nor the imagina- 
tion, nor any other faculty, can perform the office assigned it. 
But, when prejudice and passion have subsided, conscience 
is relieved from its burthen, the power of moral discernment 
returns, and the man reviews with dismay, remorse, and mor- 
tification, the violence and perversion of feeling, to which, in 
moments of excitement, he had permitted himself to give way. 



* l Tim. iv. 2. t See above, pp. 6-10. 

4 



26 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

Again, many actions are complex in their nature ; and this is 
another source of aberration in our moral judgments of men 
and actions. No one circumstance is of so much importance, 
in determining the moral character of an action, as the intention 
of the author. And how frequently is it, that we pronounce 
on the moral conduct of a man, when we entirely, mistake his 
motives and intentions, or are at least very imperfectly ac- 
quainted with them. Moreover, our moral judgments of men 
and their conduct will be much affected by early associations, 
by differences of education, and especially by the light and posi- 
tion from which we view them. In all these cases, mistaken 
moral judgments must be ascribed to want of full and exact 
knowledge, and not to any defects of conscience. Conscience 
in moral transactions, as well as reason in other matters, must 
have fair opportunities for its exercise, or it cannot be expected 
to lead us in the right way. 

3. We may now understand, how a man may follow the 
dictates of his conscience, and still fall into iniquity, and incur 
great guilt. We have seen, that the decisions of conscience 
may be perverted by prejudice and passion, and by the influence 
of early associations. We have seen, too, that actions are 
sometimes complex in their nature, that is, they may be in 
some respects worthy of approbation, and in others of repre- 
hension, and this is another source of wrong moral decisions. 
Hence, to decide rightly, we must be free from prejudice and 
passion ; we must, as far as possible, divest ourselves of the 
bias of early associations, and we must patiently analyze the 
conduct and transactions upon which we presume to pass judg- 
ment. 

Moreover our consciences must be enlightened by knowl- 
edge, and we must bring to their aid, full, calm, and honest 
inquiry. Except in cases where ignorance is invincible, we 
are required to have a conscience enlightened by knowledge 
and reflection. St. Paul considered himself highly guilty in 
persecuting the church of God, * although he verily thought 
at the time of doing this, that he ought to do many things con- 

* 1 Cor. xv. 9 ; Eph. iii. 8 ; 1 Tim. i. 13. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 27 

trary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth ; * that is, he sincerely- 
thought it his duty to oppose the gospel. The reason why he 
considered himself guilty, in opposing the gospel and persecuting 
the church, was, that he acted under the influence of unjust 
prejudices and violent passions, which prevented him from 
perceiving the evidence, and acknowledging the claim, of Chris- 
tianity as a revelation from Heaven. Full evidence of the truth 
of the gospel had been furnished ; but he had closed his eyes 
to its light, and steeled his heart against all impressions in its 
favor. " In the instance of St. Paul," says Dr. Macknight, 
" we see how much guilt a man, who is not at pains to inform 
himself, may, through ignorance, contract, without going con- 
trary to his conscience. At this time Paul was doing things, 
which, after he became an apostle, made him call himself the 
chief of sinners ; he was touching the law blameless, and thought 
that, in persecuting the Christians, he was doing God service."! 
On the moral responsibility accompanying wilful ignorance, 
and the guilt contracted by refusing or neglecting to enlighten 
the conscience, Dr. Abercrombie says, "Deep guilt may attach 
to the moral agent, who has been proof against the influence of 
moral causes. There is guilt in ignorance, when knowledge was 
within his reach ; there is guilt in heedless inattention, when 
truths and motives of the highest interest claimed his serious 
consideration ; there is guilt in that corruption of his moral 
feelings which impedes the action of moral causes, because this 
has originated, in a great measure, in a course of vicious desires 
and vicious conduct, by which the mind, familiarized with vice, 
has gradually lost sight of its malignity. During the whole of 
this course, also, the man felt that he was a fi + ee agent ; that 
he had power to pursue the course which he followed, and that 
he had power to refrain from it. When a particular desire was 
first present to his mind, he had the power immediately to act, 
with a view to its accomplishment, or he had the power to 
abstain from acting, and to direct his attention more fully to the 
various considerations and motives, which were calculated to 
guide his determination. In acting as he did, he not only with- 

* Acts xxvi. 9, t Coram, on 1 Tim. i. 13. 



28 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

held his attention from those truths, which were thus calculated 
to operate upon him as a moral being ; but he did still more 
direct violence to an impulse within, which warned him, that he 
was wandering from the path of rectitude. The state of moral 
feeling which gradually results from this habitual violation of the 
indications of conscience, and this habitual neglect of the serious 
consideration of moral causes, every individual must feel to be 
attended with moral guilt. The effect of it is, not only to pre- 
vent the operation of moral causes on his future volitions, but 
even to vitiate and distort the judgment itself, respecting the 
great principles of moral rectitude. Without attempting any 
explanation of this remarkable condition of the mental functions, 
its actual existence must be received as a fact in the constitution 
of human nature, which cannot be called in question ; and it 
offers one of the most remarkable phenomena that can be pre- 
sented to him, who turns his attention to the moral economy of 
man." # Another writer well says, "Apart from human judg- 
ments, there is an intrinsic moral difference in actions ; and hence 
results the previous obligation of informing the mind, by a dili- 
gent attention to the dictates of reason and religion, and of 
delaying to act until we have sufficient light ; but, in entire con- 
sistence with this, we affirm, that where there is no hesitation, 
the criterion of immediate duty is the suggestion of conscience, 
whatever guilt may have been previously incurred by the neg- 
lect of serious and impartial inquiry."! 

The conscience, therefore, of every individual is 

to him the supreme and ultimate rule of duty; 

but, to insure safe decisions, the mind must be kept 
free from prejudice and passion, and, above all, the 
conscience must be guided, regulated, and enlight- 
ENED. In truth all the powers of the mind require cultivation for 
their due exercise. The reason is necessary to confine the imag- 
ination within sober limits ; the memory furnishes the reason with 
the materials of which it is to make use ; and both the reason 
and the conscience impose restraints on the appetites, the pas- 
sions, and the will. All the other faculties have, in like manner, 

* Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, p. 169. 

t Rev. Robert Hall's Works, Vol. I. p. 342. New York. 1832. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 29 

important relations with the conscience, by the exercise and aid 
of which, it may be so regulated and enlightened, and otherwise 
cultivated, as to be qualified to perform its high office of deciding 
on the moral feelings, sentiments, and conduct. I proceed to 
review the chief sources by the aid of which the conscience 
may be regulated and enlightened. 

I. The Scriptures fully recognise civil government as binding 
on the conscience ; * and, therefore, the enactments of the govern- 
ment under which we live, or, in other terms, the law of the 
land, 'is one of the rules by which the consciences of individuals 
are to be regulated. 

The law of a country is the combined reason, sentiment, and 
wisdom of the citizens of such country, so far as relates to the 
subjects embraced by the law, and therefore, aside from its 
binding character as law, is entitled to the respect of the citi- 
zens. f It is chiefly occupied in devising the means of protect- 
ing the persons, liberties, reputation, and estates of the citizens ; 
in settling the rules of evidence, and the forms of proceedings ; in 
prescribing rules and ordinances in the numerous cases, in which 
natural equity only ordains that there shall be a rule, but does 
not prescribe what the rule shall be ; in adjusting private rights 
in their endless and perplexing diversity, and in guarding against 
fraud in all its devious ways. The practical administration of 
the law consists, for the most part, in ascertaining the facts, 
which enter into controversies, and on which their rightful de- 
cision depends ; in inquiring into the extent of injury inflicted, 
and the corresponding amount of damages which ought to be 
rendered ; in settling the construction of statutes ; in applying the 
law to various facts and unforeseen contingences, which daily 
happen in the affairs of men ; and in looking beyond the present 
case, to see, on the one hand, how the decision of to-day agrees 
with preceding decisions, and, on the other hand, how it will 

* Rom. xiii. 1-7; 1 Peter, ii. 13-16. 

t Thuanus (De Thou) says, " The life, and soul, and judgment, and under- 
standing of the country, centre in the laws. A state without law, like a body 
deprived of its animating principle, is defunct and lifeless in its blood and 
members. Magistrates and judges are but ministers and interpreters of the 
laws, — and in fine, we are all servants of the laws, that we may be free." 
— Prafatio Thuani ad Henricum TV. 



30 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES. 

affect the rights and happiness of the community in years to 
come. 

Still, viewed as a guide, the law of the land is far from being 
designed by the legislature itself to be full and complete. It 
is imperfect in various respects ; the number of moral points, on 
which the most voluminous body of laws touches, being com- 
paratively very few. Writers on jurisprudence consider only 
what the person, to whom the obligation is due, ought to think 
himself entitled to exact by force ; what every impartial spectator 
would approve of him for exacting, or what a judge or arbiter, 
to whom he had submitted his case, and who had undertaken to 
do him justice, ought to oblige the other person to suffer or to 
perform. Moralists, on the other hand, do not so much examine 
what it is that might properly be exacted by force, as what it is 
that the person who owes the obligation ought to think himself 
bound to perform, from the most sacred and scrupulous regard 
to the general rules of justice, and from the most conscientious 
dread, either of wronging his neighbour, or of violating the in- 
tegrity of his own character. It is the end of jurisprudence to 
prescribe rules for the decisions of judges and arbiters. It is 
the end of morals to prescribe rules for the conduct of a good 
man. By observing all the rules of jurisprudence, supposing 
them ever so perfect, we should deserve nothing but to be free 
from external punishment. By observing moral rules, sup- 
posing them such as they ought to be, we should be entitled to 
considerable praise, by the exact and scrupulous correctness of 
our behaviour. It may frequently happen, that a good man 
will think himself bound, from a sacred and conscientious regard 
to the general rules of justice, to perform many things, which it 
would be the highest injustice to extort from him, or for any 
judge or arbiter to impose upon him by force. And the science 
of morality is to be considered as furnishing direction to persons 
who are conscious of their own thoughts, motives, and designs ; 
rather than as a guide to the judge, or to any third person, whose 
arbitration must proceed upon rules of evidence and maxims of 
credibility with which the moralist has no concern. * 

* See Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 361. — Smith's Theory of 
Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. p. 119. 



AJND DISCUSSIONS. 31 

" The object of a free civil government," says Chief Justice 
Parsons, " is the promotion and security of the happiness of the 
citizens. These effects cannot be produced, but by the knowl- 
edge and practice of our moral duties, which comprehend all 
the social and civil obligations of man to man, and of the citi- 
zen to the state. If the civil magistrate in any state, could 
procure, by his regulations, a uniform practice of these duties, 
the government of that state would be perfect. To obtain that 
perfection, it is not enough for the magistrate to define the rights 
of the several citizens, as they are related to life, liberty, prop- 
erty, and reputation, and to punish those by whom they may be 
invaded. Wise laws, made to this end, and faithfully executed, 
may leave the people strangers to many of the enjoyments of 
civil and social life, without which their happiness will be ex- 
tremely imperfect. Human laws cannot oblige to the perform- 
ance of the duties of imperfect obligation ; as the duties of 
charity and hospitality, benevolence and good neighbourhood ; 
as the duties resulting from the relation of husband and wife, 
parent and child ; of man to man, as children of a common 
parent ; and of real patriotism, by influencing every citizen to 
love his country, and to obey all its laws. These are moral 
duties, flowing from the disposition of the heart, and not subject 
to the control of human legislation. 

" Neither can the laws prevent, by temporal punishment, secret 
offences committed without witness, to gratify malice, revenge, 
or any other passion, by assailing the most important and most 
estimable rights of others. For human tribunals cannot proceed 
against any crimes unless ascertained by evidence ; and they are 
destitute of all power to prevent the commission of offences, 
unless by the feeble examples exhibited in the punishment of 
those who may be detected. Civil government, therefore, 
availing itself only of its own powers, is extremely defective ; 
and, unless it could derive assistance from some superior power, 
whose laws extend to the temper and disposition of the human 
heart, and before whom no offence is secret, wretched indeed 
would be the state of man under a civil constitution of any form." * 

* Massachusetts Reports, Vol. VI. p. 404. 



32 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

As a guide to the conscience, therefore, the law of the land is 
imperfect, inasmuch as, 1. It omits many moral duties which 
ought to be performed. 2. It gives permission to some things, 
of which no good man ought to avail himself. 3. It some- 
times enjoins obedience, when it has no way of enforcing such 
obedience ; and, also, it has sometimes commanded what is 
wrong, while it has prohibited what is right. Still, as the law 
of the land is, in general, binding on the conscience, the citizen 
is not justifiable in refusing compliance with its requisitions, 
unless the grievance which it inflicts is severely burdensome, 
and the wrong which it requires is palpable and unquestionable. 
In all doubtful cases, the doubt should be given in favor of the 
requirements of the law. 

The law deserves our obedience, because it alone can re- 
concile the jarring interests of all, secure each against the rash- 
ness or malignity of others, and blend into one harmonious union 
the discordant materials of which society is composed. The 
law throws its broad shield over the rights and the interests of 
the humblest and the proudest, the poorest and the wealthiest, in 
the land. It fences around what every individual has already 
gained, and it insures to him the enjoyment of whatever his 
industry may acquire. It saves the merchant against ruinous 
hazards, provides security for the wages of the mechanic and 
the day-laborer, and enables the husbandman to reap his harvest 
without fear of plunder. The sanctity of the marriage tie, the 
purity of virgin modesty, the leisure of the student, the repose 
of the aged, the enterprise of the active, the support of indi- 
gence, and the decencies of divine worship, are all under its 
guardian care. It makes every man's house his castle, and 
keeps watch and ward over his life, his name, his family, 
and his property. It travels with him by land and by sea ; 
watches while he sleeps ; and arrays, in defence of him and his, 
the physical strength of the entire state. Surely, then, it is 
worthy of our reverence, our gratitude, and our affection. 
Surely, obedience to its mandates is among the highest of our 
duties.* 

* See Address by William Gaston, before the College of New Jersey, 
29th September. 1835. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 33 

II. The consequences which may result from actions, is 
another test by which their moral character may be judged. 
Every man is bound by his duty to use forecast, and to look, 
as far as possible, into the consequences of his conduct. This 
test is subordinate and imperfect, and acts upon the conscience 
chiefly through the reason ; still, in a large class of cases, it is 
highly effectual and valuable. If we habitually inquire, what 
would be the consequences to ourselves and to mankind, if every 
one were to act as we are acting, or as we propose to act, 
we shall not very often decide wrong in respect to our course of 
conduct. It is our duty at all times to act with prudence, dis- 
cretion, and after full reflection ; and there may, unquestionably, 
be a degree of rashness, recklessness, and disregard of con- 
sequences in our conduct, by which the conscience may be 
scarcely less violated, than by a positive willingness, not to 
say inclination, to do wrong. 

This test supposes, that the welfare of ourselves and others 
is the great design of our existence, and that virtue consists in 
doing good to mankind. It makes usefulness and expediency 
the measure and standard of rectitude. Some of the ancient 
moralists used this standard, by which to determine the moral 
nature of an action ; but they used it in a sense too unqualified, 
and perverted its just meaning and application. They taught, 
without just discrimination, that whatever was useful [utile) was 
right. Cicero combats this principle, which seems to have 
been very mischievously applied in his time, at great length and 
with great earnestness, and maintains, that an action, to be worthy 
of approbation, must unite the useful and the right. # He main- 
tains, against the licentious writers of his time, that the useful- 
ness of an action can never conflict with its rectitude, because 
no action can ever be truly useful which is not also right, f 
He makes the rectitude of an action the test of its usefulness, 
and not the usefulness the test of its rectitude. Reduced to 
practice, it is the question which continually presents itself to 
every man, when he is tempted by the allurements of pleasure, 

* "Utile atque honestum"; see his Offices, and particularly lib. iii. c. 3. 
t " Quidquid honestum est, idem utile ; nee utile quidquam, quod non ho- 
nestum.**— De Officiis, lib. iii. c. 4. 

5 



34 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

of profit, or of fame, to do an act which he knows to be unjus- 
tifiable and wrong ; and Cicero says, his habitual decision, on 
the one side or on the other, determines him to belong to the 
class of good or bad, of honest or dishonest, of upright or wicked 
men. 

In applying this standard to practice, we must not satisfy our- 
selves with looking at the immediate and particular consequences 
of our actions only ; to give it any considerable practical value, 
we must also look to the remote and distant consequences of our 
conduct. To satisfy this test, an action must be useful in the 
long run, as well as near by; " in all its effects collateral and 
remote, as well as in those which are immediate and direct ; " 
since, in computing consequences, it makes no difference in 
what way, or at what distance, they arrive. 

It has before been observed, that Dr. Paley made the use- 
fulness or expediency of an action the standard of its rectitude. 
He says, "It is the utility of any moral rule alone, which con- 
stitutes the obligation of it."* And, however mistaken he may 
have been, in making "expediency" the corner-stone of his 
system, still, the very circumstance of his doing this, led him to 
state, illustrate, and qualify it with peculiar care. I should do 
wrong, therefore, if I were not to avail myself freely of his 
illustrations. 

The bad consequences of actions, he says, are twofold, par- 
ticular and general. The particular bad consequence of an 
action is the mischief, which that single action directly and 
immediately occasions. The general bad consequence is the 
violation of some necessary or useful general rule. In many 
cases, the particular consequences are comparatively insignifi- 
cant, while the general consequences are so injurious as to call 
for the greatest severity of punishment. 

The particular consequence of counterfeiting the current coin 
of a country, is the loss of a dollar, or of a few dollars, to the 
person, or persons, who may receive it ; the general conse- 
quence, that is, the consequence which would ensue if the same 
practice were generally permitted, would be to abolish the use 

* Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 42. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 35 

of money. The particular consequence of forgery may be a 
damage of fifty, or a hundred dollars, to the man who accepts 
the forged bill ; the general consequence would be the destruc- 
tion of paper currency. The particular consequence of horse- 
stealing is a loss to the owner of the value of the horse stolen ; 
the general consequence would be, that no man's horses would 
be safe. The particular consequence of breaking into a house 
without inhabitants may be the loss of some clothing, or of a 
few spoons ; the general consequence would be, that no one 
could safely leave his house unoccupied. The particular con- 
sequence of smuggling may be a diminution of the national 
income, almost too minute for estimation ; the general conse- 
quence would be, the destruction of one entire branch of the 
public revenue, a proportionate increase of the burthen upon 
other branches, and the ruin of all fair and open trade in the 
kind of merchandise smuggled. The particular consequence 
of an officer's breaking his parole may be the loss of a prisoner, 
who may, perhaps, not have been worth detaining ; the general 
consequence would be, that this mitigation of captivity must be 
refused to all other prisoners. The particular consequence of 
assassination, or suicide, may be the death of an individual, 
whose life may be of little or no importance to himself, or to 
any one else ; the general consequence would be, that, in the 
one case, every man would be under constant apprehensions for 
his life, and that, in both cases, no man's life, however valuable, 
would be safe. In all cases, the particular consequence is of 
so small importance, compared with the general consequence, 
that, in the enactment and administration of criminal laws, the 
particular consequence is entirely disregarded and left out of 
sight. The crime and the fate of the forger is the same, 
whether he has forged to the value of five or fifty dollars. 
The crime is regarded the same, as the general consequences 
are the same. # 

It has before been said, that the rule of expediency, by which 
to estimate and guide our moral conduct, however valuable, is 
still imperfect. 1. It is imperfect, because sometimes men with 

* Moral and Political Philosophy, Book II. chap. 8. 



36 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

the best intentions, and after using the greatest care and diligence 
to inform themselves, moreover after the most mature reflec- 
tion, are unable to foresee and calculate the consequences of 
their actions. Unforeseen contingencies sometimes occur in 
human affairs, which baffle human sagacity and foresight. How- 
ever anxiously we look into consequences, they often elude 
our penetration. Hard, indeed, would be our condition, if, 
without regarding our intention and the accompanying circum- 
stances, our actions were to be ultimately and finally estimated 
by their consequences. 

2. Again, by directing our attention too exclusively to a 
moral estimate of our external actions, we are in danger of 
losing sight too much, of that restraint, which it is indispensable 
to impose on the thoughts and inclinations ; in other terms, 
of neglecting the moral culture of the heart, out of which are 
the issues of life, and which is to be kept with all diligence. # 
The rule of expediency is a rule of calculation ; valuable as 
it is, it refers chiefly to our external conduct, and ought never 
to be permitted to withdraw our attention from the suggestions 
of an enlightened and unsophisticated conscience. It may be 
useful in aiding the conscience, but must not be allowed to 
supersede its high functions. 

I subjoin two practical applications of this principle, by way 
of illustration. 1. Every one is morally responsible for the 
consequences of his actions, so far as he foresaw them, or might 
have foreseen them by diligence and care. 

2. We are prepared to understand and to explain several 
current maxims, which are in the mouths of many persons, but 
not always with a just understanding of their import. "We 
must not do evil that good may come," that is, we must not 
violate a general principle, for the sake of any particular and 
immediate good consequence, which may result from such vio- 
lation. The converse of this maxim, couched in very different 
terms, is often cited thus, u The end sanctifies the means ;" a 
dangerous maxim, and the more so, because men of worth and 
of the best intentions, having good objects to accomplish, have 

* Prov. iv. 23; Mat. xv. 18-20. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 37 

sometimes acted upon it. They seem to have made this mistake 
by looking so intently at their good object, that they did not 
scrutinize the means, by which they proposed to attain it. In 
truth, there is always an inclination to view the means in the 
favorable light which the end reflects upon them. We know 
how apt persons are to consider the cause good which they 
wish to see advanced ; and, on the strength of this maxim, they 
are tempted to be unscrupulous in using any means which they 
deem likely to promote it. A good object should be accom- 
plished by good means only. A bad cause may be consistently 
advanced by bad means. Moreover, we sometimes hear this 
maxim ; u We must do our duty without shrinking, and leave 
the consequences to God." But we have seen, that one test, by 
which we are to judge of our duty, is the consequences which 
may probably result from our conduct. If we foresee, that the 
consequences of a particular line of conduct will probably be evil, 
or that the evil will probably preponderate over the good, we 
ought to abstain from such line of conduct. This maxim is often 
used by the inexperienced, the rash, the passionate, the enthu- 
siastic, and the fanatical, to justify their conduct. 

III. The preceding sources by which conscience is enlight- 
ened and guided, to wit, the law of the land, and a regard to 
the consequences of our conduct, are subordinate ; and the su- 
preme authority, which supplies their deficiencies, is the sacred 
Scriptures. These contain a system of moral truth, comprised 
in facts, customs, precepts, and principles, adapted to all ages, 
nations, climates, and circumstances of life. 

This position is an important one, and, moreover, is not so 
obvious as not to require a careful illustration. The Scriptures, 
in reference to the periods of time which they embrace, are 
usually considered by divines under three dispensations ; the 
Patriarchal, the Mosaic, and the Christian. It will be conven- 
ient to review the various writings of which the Scriptures con- 
sist, under these same divisions ; by which we shall see, that 
this moral system was gradually unfolded, according as these 
dispensations succeeded each other in the order of time, and 
according to the degree of knowledge mankind possessed, the 



38 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

kind of life they led, and various other circumstances which 
affected their condition. 

1. The book of Genesis comprises nearly all the Patriarchal 
writings. It is more valuable for the moral facts (that is, facts 
having a moral bearing and influence,) and institutions which it 
makes known, than for the principles of a moral kind which it 
contains, though it is not destitute of the latter. It makes known 
the creation of the earth, the heavens, and all things else, from 
nothing, in opposition to the ancient philosophers, some of whom 
maintained that the universe had existed for ever, while others 
ascribed its origin to blind chance. It also makes known, that 
the universe was created by one God, in opposition to Poly- 
theism ; and these two facts united, along with the duty of wor- 
shipping one God, lay a foundation for a belief in the moral doc- 
trine of a Divine Providence. 

The creation of man in the divine image, by which the dig- 
nity and excellence of his nature are recognised, and by this 
recognition, the duty of acting up to the dignity of his na- 
ture, — the origin of all the branches of the human family, 
however diversified by complexion, features, habits, and degrees 
of improvement, from a single pair, thus creating between them 
all, the ties and obligations of kindred, and the interest and sym- 
pathy in each other's welfare which spring from a common orig- 
inal, — the institution of the Sabbath, and of marriage between 
one man and one woman, — all have a silent, but most effectual 
moral bearing and influence. 

These facts and institutions prepare the way for the high esti- 
mate set on human life by the Almighty, and for the command, 
under the most severe penalties, against taking it away.* The 
introduction, wide-spread increase, and overwhelming punishment 
of sin by a universal deluge, viewed in connexion with the ac- 
companying circumstances, imply a coextensive standard of mor- 
als, not indeed reduced to writing, but that law of God written 
in the hearts of men, which has in all ages and among all nations, 
as we have seen,f caused substantially the same acts and habits 
to be recognised as virtues or vices, merits or crimes. During 

* Gen. iv. 5-14; ix. 5, 6. t See above, pp. 6 - 10. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 39 

the remainder of the Patriarchal times after the deluge, when the 
pastoral life chiefly prevailed, furnishing ease, leisure, and abund- 
ance, crimes against the person do not seem to have been numer- 
ous, and against property they were almost unknown. 

2. It has been seen, that the morality of the Patriarchal dis- 
pensation consisted in facts and institutions having a moral bear- 
ing and influence, much more than in written precepts and posi- 
tive principles. This was consistent with the circumstances of 
the times, and the simple state of society which then prevailed. 
But, as the institutions of Moses contemplated that the Hebrews 
should dwell in settled residences, and pursue chiefly the agricul- 
tural life, written rules of law and morals became desirable and 
necessary. 

Accordingly, as soon as their deliverance from the Egyptians 
was fully accomplished, Moses, under divine guidance, began to 
organize their civil and religious polity, by the enactment of va- 
rious laws and ordinances, suited to their condition and pros- 
pects. Among them the great moral laws, usually called " the 
Ten Commandments," are the most remarkable. They were ever 
after their promulgation the basis of the Jewish polity ; and, while 
the other parts of the Mosaic ordinances have been superseded 
by " the bringing in of a better hope," # they retain the freshness 
of their divine original, and, surviving the polity of which they 
were originally the corner-stone, they have been made the basis 
of the morals of the new and more perfect dispensation. f 

The first commandment requires us to acknowledge but one 
God, the creator of the heavens and of the earth, and to make 
him the object of our supreme love, reverence, and homage. 
The second forbids idolatry, a most degrading sin, and, as his- 
tory shows, the prolific parent of almost every other. The 
claim of the Almighty to be acknowledged as the God of the 
Hebrews was exclusive of the claim of every other being. The 
Hebrews were very much addicted to idolatry, and in fact were 
never effectually weaned from it, until they had tasted the bitter- 
ness of a seventy years' captivity in Babylon. The third com- 
mandment forbids profaneness, a sin which has not even the 

* Heb. vii. 18, 19. See Schleusner in verb, l\-ri 5 . 

t Mat. xxii. 35-40; xix. 16-20; Luke, x. 25-28; James, ii. 8-11. 



40 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

excuse of being committed under circumstances of temptation, 
which is destructive of all reverence of God's holy name, and 
which is equally a violation of manners, morals, and religion. 
The fourth appoints a time for religious worship. All nations, 
that have been blessed with the true religion, have concurred 
in the duty of worshipping the true God ; and, so strong is the 
conviction, that " there is a power above us," in the minds of 
men, that they who have not enjoyed the true religion, have still 
worshipped gods which their own imaginations have devised, and 
which their own hands have fashioned. In the acknowledgment 
of God, it is suitable that there should be an outward homage, 
significant of our inward regard and reverence. If, then, it is 
a duty to worship God, it is proper that some time be set apart 
for that purpose, when all may worship him harmoniously and 
without interrupting each other. One day in seven is surely no 
more than a reasonable portion of time to be devoted to so high 
a purpose. The fifth enjoins upon children that respect and 
honor of their parents, which is due to them next after the hom- 
age paid to Almighty God, and which, as St. Paul says, " is the 
first commandment with promise." # 

Injuries to our neighbour are then classified in the remaining 
five commandments. They are divided into offences against 
life, chastity, property, and character. It is worthy of notice, 
also, that the greatest offence in each class is expressly for- 
bidden. Thus, murder is the greatest injury to life ; adultery, to 
chastity ; theft, to property ; and perjury, to character. Again, 
the greater offence must include the less of the same kind. Mur- 
der must include every injury to life ; adultery every offence 
against chastity, and so of the rest.f Moreover, the moral code 
is closed and perfected by a command forbidding even improper 
desire in regard to our neighbour. The neglect of the duties 
thus prescribed, and the committing of the offences forbidden, 



* Ephesians, vi. 2. 

t This view of the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth commandments is fully 
sustained by our Saviour himself. See Mat. v. 21, 22, 27, 28, where every 
thing tending to endanger life is pronounced to be a violation of the sixth ; 
and every thing tending to excite or inflame lust, a violation of the seventh 
commandment. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 41 

are the frequent theme of prophetic warning, remonstrance, and 
denunciation, throughout every part of the Mosaic dispensation. 

But Hebrew morality is not yet exhausted, and is worthy of 
still further illustration. The fifteenth Psalm contains a summary 
of personal duty so excellent, that it has drawn forth the admi- 
ration of some, who have not admired many other parts of the 
sacred writings. The Book of Proverbs is an extremely valu- 
able collection of moral and prudential maxims and sentiments, 
the result of the enlarged experience of the wisest of men, and 
applicable to every situation and exigency of human life. The 
cautions against suretiship will be most commended by those 
who have had most experience in human affairs. Nowhere do 
we find stronger commendations of industry, frugality, chastity, 
temperance, and integrity, or more serious warnings against idle- 
ness, strife, envy, drunkenness, and rioting. Nowhere are the 
ruinous courses of the wicked more impressively depicted, or 
the inevitable consequences to which they lead, more graphically 
delineated. Nowhere are pride, covetousness, selfishness, the 
indulgence of rash anger, and the abuse of the tongue in the 
manifold ways of falsehood, slander, secret calumny, false wit- 
ness, and blasphemy, more forcibly reproved. Nowhere are 
the wiles, the cunning, and the hardened front of the woman, 
"who forsaketh the guide of her youth and forgetteth the cov- 
enant of her God," and " whose house is the way to hell, go- 
ing down to the chambers of death," more vividly described. 
All authors, ancient and modern, cannot furnish such a picture 
of the virtuous woman.* Every duty in life is enjoined and 
skilfully commended to our notice, and not only every vice, 
but every species of folly and even indiscretion, is guarded 
against. 

But it is in his concern for the young, and in his commenda- 
tion of wisdom, that the wisest of men has put forth all the 
strength of his persuasive wisdom and eloquence. u Happy is 
the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth under- 
standing. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchan- 
dise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more 

* Prov. xxxi. 10-31. 



42 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

precious than rubies ; and all the things thou canst desire, are 
not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right 
hand ; and in her left hand riches and honor. Her ways are ways 
of pleasantness and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of 
life to them that lay hold upon her ; and happy is every one 
that retainelh her. The Lord by wisdom hath founded the 
earth ; by understanding hath he established the heavens."* 

Moreover, the books usually termed Apocryphal in reference 
to their origin, must not be entirely omitted, even in a very brief 
review of the moral writings of the Hebrews. They are partly 
historical and partly moral, and may well be read, as St. Jerome 
says, " for example of life and instruction of manners." They are 
written in the peculiar style of the Hebrew Scriptures, and mani- 
festly by men of distinguished piety. It will not be necessary to 
advert to any but the moral part of these writings. a The Wis- 
dom of Solomon " consists of two parts ; the first, which is writ- 
ten in the name of Solomon, contains a description or encomium 
of Wisdom ; by which comprehensive term the ancient Hebrews 
understood prudence and foresight, knowledge and understand- 
ing, and chiefly a high sense of religion and of moral obligation. 
Of virtue the author says, " The memorial thereof is immortal ; 
because it is known with God and with man. When it is pres- 
ent, men take example at it ; and when it is gone, they desire 
it ; it weareth a crown, and triumpheth for ever, having gotten 
the victory, striving for undefiled rewards."! Of old age he 
says, " Honorable age is not that which standeth in length of 
time, nor that is measured by number of years ; but wisdom is 
the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age. "J 
The other part contains a variety of subjects, reflections on the 
history and conduct of the Hebrews, &c. The ancients ad- 
mired this book for its elegance, and for its admirable moral 
precepts, and some of them styled it " the treasury of virtue." 
" The Wisdom of Jesus the Son of Sirach, or Ecclesiasti- 
cus," opens with an exhortation to the pursuit of wisdom. To 
this succeeds a collection of moral sentences or maxims, ar- 
ranged very much after the manner of the Proverbs of Solomon, 

* Prov. Hi. 13-19. t Wisdom of Solomon, iv. 1,2. t Ch. iv. 8, 9. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 43 

and continuing to the end of the forty-third chapter. Here the 
author commences a eulogy of the patriarchs, prophets, and 
other celebrated men among the Hebrews, which is continued 
through the fiftieth chapter. The book concludes with a prayer. 
Except the inspired writings, a collection of purer moral pre- 
cepts does not exist. 

The unrivalled description of the power and majesty of Truth, 
contained in 1 Esdras, iv. 34, &c, has been universally admired. 
" Great is the earth, high is the heaven, swift is the sun in his 
course, for he compasseth the heavens round about, and fetcheth 
his course again to his own place in one day. Is he not great 
that maketh these things ? Therefore, great is the truth, and 
stronger than all things. All the earth calleth upon the truth, 
and the heaven blesseth it ; all works shake and tremble at it, 
and with it is no unrighteous thing. Wine is wicked, the king 
is wicked, women are wicked, all the children of men are wick- 
ed, and such are all their wicked works ; and there is no truth 
in them ; in their unrighteousness also they shall perish. As 
for the truth, it endureth, and is always strong ; it liveth and con- 
quereth for evermore. With her, there is no accepting of per- 
sons or rewards ; but she doeth the things that are just, and 
refraineth from all unjust and wicked things ; and all men do 
well like of her works. Neither in her judgment is any un- 
righteousness ; and she is the strength, kingdom, power, and 
majesty of all ages." 

3. As the Gospel of Christ is, in all respects, more perfect 
than the Mosaic dispensation, # u for the law made nothing per- 
fect, but the bringing in of a better hope did," f it may be ex- 
pected that its morals will partake of this superior perfection. 
This higher morality consists not merely, nor perhaps princi- 
pally, in the particular precepts dispersed through the writings of 
the New Testament, but much more in the spirit which pervades 
these writings, in the universality of the design of the Gospel, in 
the moral sanctions which this Gospel establishes, in the moral 
qualities, habits, and sentiments displayed in the lives, conver- 
sation, and instruction of its inspired teachers and primitive 

* Heb. i. 1-3 j iii. 1-6. t Heb. vii. 19. 



44 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

disciples ; and, above all, in the divine character of the Saviour 
himself. It may be useful to give a very rapid sketch of the qual- 
ities and characteristics of the morals of the Gospel, before pro- 
ceeding to expand, illustrate, and apply the system in its details. 

(1 .) The Mosaic dispensation was a shadow of good things 
to come, and not the very image of the things ; * but life and 
immortality are, in a preeminent sense, brought to light through 
the Gospel. f The writings of the Old Testament were less 
clear and definite in regard to a future life than might be wished ; 
and one chief design of Christianity, as a revelation, was to in- 
fluence the conduct of human life, by giving unquestionable proof 
of a future state of rewards and punishments. The direct object, 
therefore, of the design was to furnish motives to moral conduct 
rather than rules ; sanctions rather than precepts. And man- 
kind stood most in need of motives and sanctions. The works 
of the Greek and Roman moralists show, that the members of 
society can, in all ordinary cases, judge very well what their 
duty is ; but, without a future state, or, what is the same thing, 
without accredited evidence of such a state, they want a motive 
to their duty ; at least they want strength of motive sufficient to 
bear up against the force of passion and the temptation of imme- 
diate interest. The rules of the ancient moralists were without 
sanctions and authority. In conveying to the world, therefore, 
unquestionable assurances of a future existence, Christianity 
supplied precisely what was most needed by mankind, and ren- 
dered the very service, which it might have been expected a pri- 
ori would be, so far as morals were concerned, the chief end and 
office of a revelation from God 4 

(2.) Again; Christianity is the only religion, which has ever 
contemplated extending itself and its blessings through the earth 
by peaceable means ; which has made its duties and obligations 
universally binding ; and which has imparted its encouragements, 
its hopes, its prospects, its consolations, and its renovating and pu- 
rifying power, to men of all conditions and circumstances of life.§ 

* " Effigies solida et expressa." — Cicero, De Officiis, Lib. III. c. 17. See 
also Heb. x. 1. 

t 2 Tim. i. 10. t See Paley's Evidences of Christianity, p. 224. 

§ See Mat. viii. 11; X. 18; xiii. 38; xxviii. 19, 20; Mark, xvi. 15,16; 
John, x. 16. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 45 

Mahomet and his successors contemplated making his religion 
universal ; but they relied for success on the power of the sword. 
A brief historical review will convince us, that this characteristic 
of the Gospel is much more extraordinary than we are accus- 
tomed to suppose ; and that, before the time of Christ, it had 
not entered into the mind of any one, that the extension of a 
single religion throughout the earth was either possible or desir- 
able ; much less, that it could become the duty of each indi- 
vidual to contribute to this extension according to his ability, or 
that it was the moral duty of each one to regard the whole hu- 
man race as his brethren, and to consult their welfare and inter- 
est as occasion might occur and opportunity be presented. The 
Jewish religion was exclusive and even repulsive in its spirit, 
and several of its provisions unfitted it to extend over more 
than a small tract of country.* 

Before the coming of Christ, as well as since, almost no age 
has been destitute of individuals, who, looking beyond mere 
kindred and self-interest, have been willing to contribute the fruit 
of their labor and genius to the good of mankind. The number 
of such men, with whom Providence has from time to time 
blessed the earth, has been considerable, and they shed a lustre 
over the ages to which they respectively belong. But as disin- 
terested as was the aim of these individuals, as exalted as was 
their purpose, and as expansive as their benevolence might be ; 
they never reached more than a part, and usually a very small 
part of mankind. No one, even in the utmost ardor of his zeal, 
ever thought of embracing all men within the ample sphere of 
his good-will, and still less entertained a serious design of ben- 
efiting, either morally or physically, the entire human race. We 
may understand, indeed, how far such a design was from being 
entertained even by the best men, from the saying of Cicero, 
himself, next to Socrates, the most perfect example of expansive 
good-will up to his time ; to wit, that a man's country embraced 
all the affections of every man.f This he says, not by way of 
censure, but of approbation, and as the utmost stretch to which 
the good-will of any man ought to expand itself. Probably even 

* Exod. xxiii. 14, 17; Deut. xvi. 16. t De Officiis. Lib. I. c. 17. 



46 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

this distinguished man would have viewed a further extension of 
good-will as overstepping the bounds of reason and patriotism. 
The design, then, of benefiting morally and religiously the 
whole human race, without regard to complexion, country, cli- 
mate, or other circumstances, — a design which enters into the 
very essence and heart of Christianity, — had occurred to no one 
before the advent of the Saviour of mankind. But this is a 
most important feature of Christianity, and will be seen still more 
manifestly and impressively, if we inspect ancient history and 
ancient writings somewhat more minutely. 

His mind must be infected with incurable prejudice, who has 
studied the writings of the ancient Greeks and Romans, without 
kindling with admiration of the moral and intellectual qualities of 
many of the patriots and statesmen whose names adorn the an- 
nals of these celebrated nations. Their actions and writings, 
and the traits of personal character which those writings make 
known to us, contain much, very much, that is worthy of our 
admiration ; and his taste and judgment are not to be envied, 
who can hold them in light estimation. Still it is doing no in- 
justice to these illustrious authors, patriots, and statesmen, to say, 
that no one had attained the comprehensiveness of good-will, 
which led him to entertain the design, or to devise a plan of 
benefiting all men without discrimination. 

The great fame of Hercules has been celebrated from the 
earliest dawn of history to the present hour, yet he did no more 
than wander over the earth ; by his great strength, ridding the 
inhabitants, wherever he came, of the monsters which afflicted 
them. This he did, moreover, impelled (it is said) by the anger 
of Juno, and not from his spontaneous good-will. He is not said, 
even by tradition, to have formed any plan for instructing, reform- 
ing, or otherwise morally improving the human race, or any part 
of it. The design of such men as Sesostris, Alexander, Pyrrhus, 
and Caesar, was in no other sense universal, than as they wished 
to devastate the earth universally, and subject all mankind to 
military domination and despotic sway. 

The early founders of cities, too, who, themselves rising above 
the ignorance and barbarism of their times, had the skill and ad- 
dress to assemble men in considerable numbers, and to put them 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 47 

in the way of becoming civilized, by introducing agriculture, 
commerce, manufactures, the arts, letters, and government among 
them, are well entitled to much praise and admiration ; still their 
enterprises, as meritorious as they were, admit of contrast rather 
than comparison with the founding of that great commonwealth 
of righteousness and peace, into which the author of Christianity 
proposed to bring all men wherever scattered over the face of 
the earth. We must form the same judgment of those men, 
who by their personal valor and military skill defended their 
country in ancient times. The history of the Greeks and Ro- 
mans is full of examples of this kind ; Miltiades, Themistocles, 
Leonidas, Agesilaus, Epaminondas, Philopcemen, Brutus, Fa- 
bricius, Camillus, Marcellus, the Scipios, and many others. 
Who does not know, and who can forget, their splendid achieve- 
ments, their elevation of mind, and their intense love of country ? 
But in illustrating the point before us, it cannot be necessary to 
do more than refer to men of this class. Amidst all their great- 
ness, they never looked beyond the interests of their own country. 
Instead of wishing to benefit all mankind, or as many as possi- 
ble, the object of their achievements could only be accomplished 
by the overthrow and destruction of all opposed to them. And, 
moreover, the motive from which they acted was of a mixed 
nature, composed quite as much of a desire of personal fame as 
of the pure love of country. 

Nor, if we turn to the ancient lawgivers, salutary and praise- 
worthy as their labors were, shall we find any one who had 
formed a plan of extending the benefit of his labors to all 
mankind. Their laws are filled with no doubtful or indistinct 
traces of narrow and selfish views, and not unfrequently manifest 
a jealous and hostile spirit towards all other nations. To the 
class of lawgivers belong the Seven Wise Men of Greece, so 
called by reason of the wisdom supposed to be manifested in the 
laws and maxims which they wrote and promulgated. It was 
the pervading policy of all the ancient States, and especially 
those of Lacedaemon and Rome, to make the citizens warriors, 
and to encourage and inspire them with the spirit of conquest 
and the lust of domination. Even in time of peace, one nation 
did not look upon another with a friendly eye. The Roman law 



48 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

lays it down as a settled principle, with respect to nations with 
whom the Romans were at peace, but had no particular alliance, 
that whoever passed from one country to the other, immediately 
became a slave.* The views of them all were comparatively 
exclusive, contracted, and selfish. 

If, moreover, we resort to the ancient philosophers, who flour- 
ished before the coming of Christ, and make ourselves ac- 
quainted with their lives and writings, we shall still be unsuc- 
cessful in finding any one who raised his mind above his imme- 
diate sphere, or whose good-will was much more expansive 
than that which we have ascribed to the ancient lawgivers and 
founders of cities. Some of them admit, indeed, that there 
is a certain degree of relationship (societas) among all mankind, 
the bond of which consists in reason and speech ; and that men 
are not born for themselves alone, but that they may be useful 
to each other ; f but we search the writings of the ancient phil- 
osophers in vain for any plan of benevolence embracing all 
mankind, and for any trace of that fraternal love, by which the 
Saviour sought to unite all the families of the earth in unity of 
faith, and in the bonds of righteousness and peace. 

If we regard practical wisdom, good-will to man, ardor and 
zeal in instructing and benefiting as many as possible, Socrates 
is confessedly the chief of the ancient philosophers. What 
scholar can peruse his defence of himself and his instructions, 
as given by his celebrated disciple Plato,J without being strong- 
ly affected, and moved with admiration of that greatness of 
mind, which, in prosecuting his salutary and disinterested de- 
sign, led him to disregard and despise all the objects usually 
esteemed most valuable among men. He declares in presence 
of his judges, that he will not be deterred, by the fear of any 
punishment which they can inflict, from maintaining his accus- 
tomed intercourse with his fellow-citizens, in which his habit 
had been to avail himself of every opportunity to exhort them to 
the practice of honor and virtue. He professes, that he will 
not yield obedience to their decrees, if they attempt to prevent 
him from instructing his countrymen in the way of truth and 

* Digests, 49. 15. 5. 2. 

t Cicero, De Legibus, Lib. I., and De Ofliciis, Lib. I. i Apologia Socr. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 49 

duty ; and adds the celebrated resolution, " I will obey the Di- 
vinity rather than you." # He declares, that he has been given to 
his country by the special favor of the Divinity, and says, that, 
mindful of his high commission, he has, during many years, to 
the total neglect of his private interest, devoted himself to the 
welfare of his countrymen, and, addressing the citizens individu- 
ally as opportunity offered, with all the interest and affection of a 
father or an elder brother, has exhorted them to the love and 
practice of virtue. 

But, noble and disinterested as were the views of this great- 
est of all the ancient philosophers, what comparison can be in- 
stituted between him and the Author of Christianity, in regard 
to their respective designs, and the spirit manifested in them ? 
Socrates labors to instruct and reform the Athenians ; Jesus 
designs to instruct and renovate the human race, spread over the 
face of the earth ; and not only so, but his design embraces the 
renovation and salvation of all the future generations of mankind. 
Socrates, although he sees how vain and impious the sentiments 
of his countrymen are, concerning the nature of the Divinity, not 
only does not dare to overthrow the idolatry of Athens, but 
thinks that some allowance should be made for their prejudices, 
and even participates in their superstition. The Gospel of 
Jesus, on the other hand, was designed (and much of this design 
has been accomplished) to overthrow and exterminate all false 
divinities throughout the earth, and to bring all men to unite in the 
worship of the supreme and true God. Socrates is not deterred 
from his design by the menaces of his ungrateful countrymen, 
and at length perishes by a mild and honorable kind of death. 
The design unfolded in the Gospel of Jesus excites against him, 
both the utmost virulence of the Jews, and the scorn and con- 
tempt of the Gentiles ; and at length he dies the death of the 
cross, a punishment, of all the most painful and ignominious. 
Finally, although we may rightfully view Socrates as the first of 
all the philosophers of antiquity, still, when we consider the plan 
which he devised, the labors he performed, or the knowledge 
he imparted, we must be convinced that he was far, very far, 



50 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

surpassed, even by the apostles of our Saviour ; and that, in re- 
spect to the Saviour himself, when we regard the design, the 
spirit, and the power of his Gospel, never man spake like 

THIS MAN.* 

(3.) Christianity is the only religion which has undertaken to 
control and regulate the prime sources of human action, by put- 
ting a moral restraint on the thoughts. The feelings and propen- 
sities of mankind, which require to be specially curbed in their 
ultimate sources, are of two kinds, — the malicious, and the 
voluptuous passions. "From within," says our Saviour, "out 
of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornica- 
tions, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lascivi- 
ousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness ; all these evil 
things come from within, and defile the man."f He denounces 
the Scribes and Pharisees in the most severe terms, because, 
while they made clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, 
they were within full of extortion and excess. He says, they 
appeared outwardly righteous unto men, but within were full of 
hypocrisy and iniquity. And he compares them to whited sepul- 
chres, which appear outwardly beautiful, but within are full of 
dead men's bones and of all uncleanness. J And, above all, the 
searching and decisive declaration designed to curb the first risings 
of unlawful desire ; — "Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust 
after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." § 

No one can doubt, that the control and regulation of the pas- 
sions and propensities of our nature is indispensable, and that the 
placing the check on the thoughts, instead of the actions, is one 
important point of difference between religion and law. While 
Christianity manifests the utmost solicitude to regulate the affec- 
tions, appetites, and desires, the law is contented with bringing 
the actions of delinquents to its tribunal, and does not take notice 
of their thoughts, or even their intentions, except so far as these 
give a character to their actions. From the nature of the case, 
the law must be satisfied with regulating the actions of men ; 
but Christianity, addressing itself immediately to the conscience, 

* John vii. 46. — See Reinhard's Opuscula Academica, Vol. I. p. 240, &c. 
t xWark vii. 21-23. t Mat. xxiii. 25-28. § Mat. v. 28. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 51 

has the power to penetrate the inmost recesses of the human 
breast, and to curb the inmost thoughts. Christianity makes the 
control of the thoughts essential. External appearance is no 
recommendation, internal purity is every thing. And every 
reflecting man must be convinced, that this is the only discipline 
which can succeed. The law of the land is extremely defective, 
as a moral system, because, among other reasons, while it pro- 
hibits certain actions, it can impose no restraint on the thoughts. 
Wise legislators, in all ages, have been sensible of this defi- 
ciency in the reach of the law.* "Without restraint, all the pas- 
sions soon become ungovernable, and their effects disastrous. 
u Every moment of time," says Haller, " that is spent in medi- 
tations upon sin, increases the power of the dangerous object 
which has possessed our imagination."! This may suffice to 
illustrate the great moral feature of Christianity, which goes up 
to the sources of human conduct, and imposes a curb, where it 
will be most effectual, on the thoughts, affections, passions, 
appetites, desires, and intentions. 

(4.) In Christianity, mere profession is unvalued and disregard- 
ed, unless accompanied by practical morals and active virtue. 
" Not every one (no one) that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall 
enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that doeth the will of 
my Father who is in heaven." J "I will have mercy and not 
(rather than) sacrifice." § "Not the hearers of the law are just 
before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified." [| u Be 
ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own 
selves. Whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and 
continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of 
the word, this man shall be blessed in his deed." Again, " Pure 
religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, — to 
visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep 
himself unspotted from the world. "IF 

Any profession of Christianity which does not produce good 
works, as its natural fruit, is pronounced vain and hypocritical. 
In this way, Christian morals are inseparably incorporated with 

* See above, pp. 30 - 32. 

t Quoted by Dr. Paley, Evidences of Christianity, p. 232. 

t Mat. vii. 21. § Mat. ix. 13. II Rom. ii. 13. If James i. 22-27. 



52 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

a profession of the Christian religion. u Bring forth, therefore, 
fruits meet for repentance." * Again, " Ye shall know them 
by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of 
thistles ? Even so, every good tree bringeth forth good fruit ; 
but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot 
bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good 
fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn 
down, and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall 
know them."f Again, comparing faith and works, St. James 
says, u What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he 
hath faith, and have not works ? Can faith save him ? If a 
brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one 
of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and 
filled ; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are 
needful to the body ; what doth it profit ? Even so faith, if it 
hath not works, is dead, being alone. By works a man is justi- 
fied, and not by faith only. For, as the body without the spirit 
is dead, so faith without works is dead also." And the same 
sacred writer declares, that mere belief in one God without a 
corresponding moral effect, is no better than the belief of devils, 
who, while they believe, tremble at the vengeance of the Most 
High.+ 

We have seen that mere profession, and even zeal, however 
impassioned, without corresponding practical virtue, will not be 
acceptable ; and it may be added, that neither are actions, done 
from motives of ostentation and desire of fame, virtuous in the 
eye of Christianity. Still it is the selfish desire of fame, to be 
used for purposes of self-gratification only, or chiefly, and not to 
be turned to the benefit of mankind, on which Christianity 
frowns. We may aim, and ought to aim, to acquire reputation, 
which we propose to ourselves to use rightfully and beneficially. 
" Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of 
them, otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in 
heaven. When thou prayest, enter into thy closet ; and, when 
thou hast shut the door, pray to thy Father which is in secret ; 
and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly." § 

* Mat. iii. 8. t Mat. vii 16-20. J James ii. 14-26. § Mat. vi 1 -6. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 53 

What is here said of prayer and almsgiving, must, by parity 
of reasoning, be applied to all other duties and virtues. " This 
exclusion of regard to human opinion," says Dr. Paley, u is a 
difference, not so much in the duties to which the teachers of 
virtue would persuade mankind, as in the manner and topics of 
persuasion. And in this view the difference is great. When 
we set about to give advice, our lectures are full of the advan- 
tages of character, of the regard that is due to appearances, and 
to opinion ; of what the world, especially of what the good or 
great, will think or say ; of the value of public esteem, and of the 
qualities by which men acquire it. Widely different from this 
was our Saviour's instruction ; and the difference was founded 
upon the best reasons. For, however the care of reputation, 
the authority of public opinion, or even of the opinion of good 
men, the satisfaction of being well received and well thought of, 
the benefit of being known and distinguished, are topics to which 
we are fain to have recourse in our exhortations ; the true virtue 
is that which discards these considerations absolutely, and which 
retires from them all, to the single internal purpose of pleasing 
God. This, at least, was the virtue which our Saviour taught. 
And in teaching this, he not only confined the views of his fol- 
lowers to the proper measure and principle of human duty, but 
acted in consistency with his office as a monitor from Heaven." * 

Furthermore, with Christianity, the mild, gentle, and peaceful 
virtues take precedence of all others. u As we have many 
members in one body, and all members have not the same 
office ; so we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every 
one members one of another." That is, Christians, in respect 
to harmony, are to resemble the limbs of the human body in 
their intimate union. u Let love be without dissimulation. 
Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love ; in 
honor preferring one another ; patient in tribulation, continuing 
instant in prayer ; distributing to the necessity of saints ; given 
to hospitality. Bless them which persecute you ; bless, and 
curse not. Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with 
them that weep. Be of the same mind one toward another. 

* Evidences of Christianity, p. 238. 



54 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate. Be 
not wise in your own conceits. Recompense to no man evil for 
evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men. If it be 
possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. 
Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath : for it 
is written, Vengeance is mine ; I will repay, saith the Lord. 
If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink. 
Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good." * 

These passages all stand by the side of each other ; the New 
Testament is full of such ; it is superfluous to quote more. 
Even among the mild virtues, which, as a class, take precedence 
of all others, the preference is given to charity, or a good-will 
so diffusive as to embrace all mankind. This crowning virtue 
of Christianity, moreover, is preferred before that hope which 
maketh not ashamed, which is a helmet of salvation, and an 
anchor of the soul both sure and steadfast ;f and before that faith, 
which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of 
things not seen, and without which it is impossible to please 
God. " And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three, but 
the greatest of these is charity." J St. Paul says, " If there be 
any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this saying, 
Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." And again, " For 
all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this, Thou shalt love 
thy neighbour as thyself." § St. John says, u This command- 
ment have we from him, That he who loveth God, love his 
brother also." || St. James calls the same commandment, u the 
royal law. "IT 

(5.) The peculiar doctrines of Christianity were, at its first 
promulgation, absolutely new to the world, and the character of 
the Christian is to be formed under the united influence of its 
doctrines and its morals. And, if it cannot be said of its morals 
as of its doctrines, that there was any thing absolutely new in 
them, still it can be said, with the most perfect truth, that Chris- 
tianity has improved and corrected our views of all the virtues 
and duties of life, by infusing its peculiar spirit into them. This 

* Rom. xii. 4-21. t Rom. v. 5; 1 Thess. v. 8 ; Heb. vi. 19. 

t Heb. xi. 1-6; 1 Cor. xiii. 13. § Rom. xiii. 9; Gal. v. 14. 

I 1 John iv. 21. 1T James ii. 8. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 55 

is the case with some much more than with others ; — patriotism, 
friendship, and humility, may serve for illustration. It was im- 
possible that a religion so benign as the Christian, destined to be 
universal, and being itself the ultimate standard of morals, should 
be without an influence on the entire department of morals, — if 
not direct, still both real and beneficial. 

Patriotism, as understood in Greece and Rome, and too often 
also in later times, justified outrageous wrong towards every other 
nation, * provided the patriot could, by such wrong, advance 
the supposed interests of his own country. Christian patriotism, 
while it permits and requires a just preference of our own coun- 
try, still enjoins good- will to all other nations. Again, many of 
the sentiments of the ancient writers respecting friendship are just 
and proper in themselves, and cannot be perused without admira- 
tion. They comprise tenderness, amiableness, faithfulness, and 
a willingness to make sacrifices for the sake of a friend ; but, at 
the same time, they permit and encourage a spirit of exclu- 
sion and indifference to the welfare of all who are out of the 
pale of a man's friendship, that has been softened by the universal 
benevolence, which is the corner-stone of Christian morals. So 
again, humility (humilitas), which among the Romans signified 
meanness, abjectness, in its Christian meaning signifies a low 
estimation of ourselves and our deserts in the sight of God, but 
is not inconsistent with all suitable manliness and independence of 
spirit and conduct in the sight of men. Finally, Christianity has 
softened and rectified the spirit and temper, which we should 
carry into all the situations and relations, which we sustain in life, 
by enjoining on us the great law of love ; to wit, " All things 
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so 
to them." f 

But the character of our Saviour, as well as the doctrines and 
moral precepts taught by him, is a part of the morality of the 

* The Roman history, however, contains instances to the contrary. — See 
Cicero, De Officiis, Lib. III. c. 11,22. " Non fraude, neque occultis, sed palam 
et armatum populum Romanum hostes suos ulcisci, " — " Not by fraud, not by 
secret machinations, but openly and armed, the Roman people avenges itself 
on its enemies; " was the answer of the Senate of Rome to the proposition of 
the king of the Catti, to take off Arminius by poison. 

\ Mat. vii. 12. 



- 56 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

gospel ; * without some delineation of which, this part of my 
labors would be too imperfect and unsatisfactory. But how shall 
I acquit myself on this part of the subject ? Not by attempting 
to do it justice ; for this would be impossible. Who can, with 
safety, attempt to portray the moral character of the Saviour of 
mankind ? As never man spake , so never man acted, like this 
man. f What may not be done fully , however, may be done 
imperfectly ; and, if a vivid picture cannot be drawn, a faint one 
at least may be furnished. The imperfections may well be 
attributed to the writer. 

The greatest of the Roman orators and moralists, and the 
most eloquent and valuable writer of all antiquity, (Cicero,) has 
left us a delineation of a great and good character, in the draw- 
ing of which, he may well be presumed to have exhausted his 
utmost skill. 

The chief excellences combined in the character of the great 
and good man delineated by him, are, a low estimate (con- 
tempt) of riches, power, honor, and the other gifts of fortune, — 
a willingness to undertake arduous labors, incur dangers, and even 
expose life itself in a good cause, — independence of mind, — 
the pursuit of nothing but what is honorable and praiseworthy, — 
and that complete self-control, which raises a man above the 
influence of all passion and agitation of mind, and puts it be- 
yond the power of external circumstances to discompose or 
otherwise disturb him.| And it must be admitted, that these 

* Paley's Evidences of Christianity, p. 252. t John vii. 46. 

t I subjoin the entire passage, of which the above is a summary. — " All true 
greatness of mind," says he, "is especially seen in two things ; — the first is a 
generous contempt or disregard of all the goods of fortune, proceeding from an 
opinion, that it is unworthy of a man, to admire or wish for or endeavour after 
anything, unless it be honorable and becoming; to submit himself to the will 
of any one ; to be a slave to his own irregular passions ; or, in any way, to be 
affected by the caprices of fortune. When he has acquired such a temper of 
mind as I have been describing, — then the second thing is, that he perform 
such actions as are glorious and beneficial, but withal very full of labors and 
difficulties, and extremely hazardous to life itself, as well as to those things 
which pertain to life, and on which the value of life very much depends. Now 
all the lustre and dignity of these two things, nay, I add, all their usefulness 
too, consists in the latter ; but the principle, as it were, and effective cause of 
all true greatness, consists in the former. For, in that," continues he, " are con- 
tained those noble aspirations, which exalt men's minds, and raise them above 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 57 

are severe and searching tests by which to try greatness and ex- 
cellence of character. But we may subject the character of the 
Saviour of mankind to tests vastly, nay, infinitely more severe, 
searching, and comprehensive, than those put forth by the 
rich and cultivated imagination of this greatest master of all 
antiquity, and it will not be found wanting. 

1. We may reflect on the moral sublimity of the design op 
his coming ; which was to bring life and immortality to light ;* 
to overthrow the dominion of Satan, sin, and misery ; and to es- 
tablish an empire of peace, knowledge, and righteousness, which 
should embrace all the nations of the earth within its ample 
bounds. 

2. We may reflect on the nature of the means which 

HE EMPLOYED TO ACCOMPLISH HIS SUBLIME AND BENEFICENT 

design; which were, the exclusive devotion of himself to 
every labor of benevolence ; to the working of miracles, which 
were to be, in every country and in all succeeding time, the 
standing and overwhelming proofs of the divinity of his mission ; 
to the instruction of all men without discrimination of rank, as 
occasion was given him, and of a select band of disciples in par- 
ticular, to whom was to be intrusted a portion of his miraculous 
power ; the instructing of all mankind in his religion, and the 
organization of a society (the church) ,f designed to be a uni- 
versal commonwealth of peace, intelligence, and holiness ; and, 
to crown all, the voluntary sacrifice of himself on the cross, to 
make an atonement by which the pardon of sin might be ren- 
dered possible, and repentance might become effectual to salvation. 

all earthly things. The first particular, too, is itself made up of two parts, — 

1. An opinion, that nothing is truly and really good, but what is honorable, 

2. Freedom from every kind and degree of passion or disturbance of mind. 
For, what can more discover a man of a brave and heroic spirit, than to make 
no account of those things which seem so glorious and dazzling to the gener- 
ality of mankind, but entirely to disregard them ; not from any vain caprice and 
humor, but from solid and firm principles of reason and judgment. Or what 
can more show strength of mind and unshaken constancy, than to bear those 
heavy and numerous calamities, which are incident to mankind in this life, 
with such firmness and consistency of temper, and fixedness of soul, as never 
to transgress against nature and right reason, or do any thing unworthy of the 
dignity and character of a wise man." — De Orficiis, Lib. I. c. 20. 

* 2 Tim. i. 10. t See Bishop Butler's Works, p. 159. London, 1828. 

8 



58 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

3. Again, we may reflect on the personal qualities 
displayed by the Saviour, in prosecuting a design thus 
fraught with the choicest hopes and prospects of mankind ; his 
patience and endurance, equally inexhaustible by labor, by suffer- 
ing, and by provocation ; his uncompromising denunciations of 
iniquity, in places however high, and under circumstances 
however hazardous ; * his mildness and benevolence, as seen 
in his kindness to children,! in his weeping upon the death 
of his friend Lazarus J and over the approaching ruin of his 
country, § in his notice of the widow's mite, (j in his para- 
bles of the ungrateful servant, of the pharisee and publican, and 
of the good Samaritan, and in his prayer for his enemies in the 
midst of his sufferings, which seems then to have been new, 
though it has since been frequently imitated ; his humility, as seen 
in his commending moderate desires after the goods of fortune, IT 
and in his constant reproof of contentions for superiority ; his 
piety and devoutness of mind, as seen in his frequent retire- 
ment for solitary prayer,** in his habitual giving of thanks, ff in 
his reference of the laws and beauties of nature to a Divine 
Providence, JJ in his earnest addresses to his Father, more par- 
ticularly the brief but solemn prayer before calling Lazarus from 
the tomb, in the profound piety of his behaviour in the garden 
on the last evening of his life ; §§ his prudence, where prudence 
is most wanted, that is, on trying occasions, and in giving an- 
swers to artful and ensnaring questions. Particular and striking 
instances of these are seen in his withdrawing, at various times, 
from the first symptoms of tumult, |||) with the wish of pros- 
ecuting his ministry in quietness ; in his declining every kind and 
degree of interference with the civil affairs of the country ; in 
his judicious answer to the ensnaring question respecting the 
payment of tribute to Caesar ; UT in his solution of the difficulty 
concerning the interfering relations of a future state, as proposed 

* Matt. xi. 20 - 24 ; xxiii. 13 - 38, &c. t Mark x. 16. t John xi. 35. 

§ Luke xix. 41 - 44. || Mark xii. 42. 

IT Luke xii. 15 - 34. ** Matt. xiv. 23 ; Luke ix. 28. 

ft Matt. xi. 25 ; Mark viii. 6 ; John vi. 23 ; Luke xxii. 17. 

tt Matt. vi. 26 - 28. § § John xi. 41 ; Matt. xxvi. 36-47. 

HI] Matt xiv. 22; Luke v. 15, 16; John v. 13; vi. 15. HIT Matt. xxii. 19. 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 59 

to him in the case of a woman who had married seven breth- 
ren ; # and, more especially, in his reply to those who de- 
manded from him an explanation of the authority by which he 
acted, which reply consisted in proposing a question to them, 
situated between the very difficulties into which they were insid- 
iously endeavouring to draw him. f 

4. Finally, we may reflect on the effects produced by 
Christianity even thus far, as seen in its superseding the 
Mosaic dispensation, which was but " the shadow of good things 
to come " ; J in its gradual undermining, successful assault, and 
final overthrow of the great system of Roman superstition, 
u which," as Gibbon says, " was interwoven with every circum- 
stance of business or pleasure, of public or private life, with 
all the offices and amusements of society ; " § in the civilization, 
public order, general cultivation and refinement, which it commu- 
nicated to the barbarians who destroyed the Roman empire, and, 
penetrating the forests and mountains from whence they issued, 
brought at length these countries themselves within its civilizing, 
enlightening, elevating, and purifying power ; in the increasing 
knowledge, and advancement in art and science, in private and 
public morals, in social and political institutions, which have always 
accompanied its progress everywhere ; especially in its accom- 
panying the origin and advances of European colonization on this 
immense continent, in Africa, in the islands of the great Pacific 
and Indian oceans, and in the vast dominions of British India ; 
in its diminishing the frequency, softening the fierceness, and miti- 
gating the calamities of war ; in its putting an end to the crime 
of infanticide ; in its restoring the wife from a condition of hu- 
miliation and servitude, to be the companion, the associate, the 
confidential adviser and friend of her husband ; in providing a 
home for the poor, the outcast, and the forsaken ; and in exter- 
minating the combats of gladiators, the impurities of superstitious 
rites, and unnatural vices not to be named and scarcely to be 
referred to in the presence of a Christian assembly,|| and known 

* Matt. xxii. 28. f Matt. xxi. 23, &c. See Paley's Evid. pp. 252-257. 

t Col. ii. 17; Heb. viii. 5; x. 1. 

§ Quoted by Dr. Paley, Evidences, p. 19. 

|| Exod. xxii. 19 ; Levit. xviii. 23 ; Deut. xxvii. 21 ; Rom. i. 24, 26, 27. 



60 PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES 

even by name only to antiquaries ; in the advancing cause of 
Christianity, which promises in the fulness of time to bring all 
nations within its benign pale ; — I say, when we thus reflect 

On THE DESIGN OF THE SAVIOUR, THE MEANS USED BY HIM 
TO ACCOMPLISH HIS DESIGN, THE PERSONAL VIRTUES DIS- 
PLAYED BY HIM, AND THE EFFECTS OF CHRISTIANITY WHICH 
HAVE BEEN ACCOMPLISHED AND WHICH WE MAY ANTICIPATE, 

— we cannot fail to be satisfied of the immeasurable superiority 
of our Saviour's moral character, not only over all the real per- 
sonages who have adorned the annals of mankind, but over the 
imaginary model drawn after the rich and fruitful imagination 
of the greatest of the Roman writers, orators, and moralists. 

Such, to wit, the law of the land, the estimate of consequences, 
and above all the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, in- 
cluding our Saviour's moral character, presented as it is for our 
imitation, are the chief sources by which the consciences of 
men are to be enlightened and guided. 



It seems proper, in this connexion, to anticipate and dispose 
of a plausible objection, which has sometimes been urged against 
the science of moral philosophy. 

It has been supposed by many good men, whose opinions are 
entitled to much respect, that as the New Testament must com- 
prise a complete system of Christian morals, there can be no 
place for moral philosophy ; and, consequently, that this science 
has been so superseded as to be useless. To this objection it 
may be replied, 1. That the New Testament is rather the basis 
of a system of Christian morals than the system itself. It con- 
tains the root from which the system must grow up ; it is the 
mine, which, although full of the richest ore, still needs working. 

2. The morals of the New Testament are taught, for the 
most part, incidentally ; its precepts are thrown out occasion- 
ally as they were suggested by circumstances and occasions. It 
is the province of moral philosophy to collect those which relate to 
the same subject, to classify, illustrate, and apply them. This 



AND DISCUSSIONS. 61 

is in some measure the case with the doctrines of the New Tes- 
tament, but is still more so with respect to its moral principles. 

3. Many of the moral precepts of the New Testament are 
expressed in absolute terms ; they require to be qualified and 
limited, and it is the office of moral philosophy to ascertain these 
limitations and qualifications. Thus, u Children, obey your pa- 
rents in all things," * "Let wives be subject to their own hus- 
bands in every thing," f u Submit yourselves to every ordinance 
of man," J must all be suitably limited and qualified. 

4. Again ; some precepts are proverbial, and describe the 
spirit and temper at which we ought to aim, rather than the par- 
ticular actions we are to perform. Such are the directions, not 
to resist evil, to turn the other cheek, to go with him two miles 
who shall compel you to go one, to give your cloak to him who 
by process of law has taken your coat, not to lay up treasures 
on earth ; § these and many such like maxims are to be com- 
plied with in the spirit which they teach, and not in their literal 
meaning. Constant exemplifications of these four observa- 
tions will be seen, as I proceed to collect, define, expand, illus- 
trate, and apply the scriptural system of morals, to the various 
employments, situations, and circumstances of mankind, and to 
the various relations in life, which they are accustomed to sustain. 

* Col. iii. 20. t Eph. v. 24. J 1 Peter, ii. 13. § Matt. v. 39 - 42. 



DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 

No particular division of a subject is otherwise important than 
as it is natural, suited to the subject, sufficiently comprehensive, 
and contributes to perspicuity and order of arrangement. To 
secure these ends, writers on moral philosophy have used several 
divisions, suited to the particular views of the science,' which 
they have taken themselves, and have wished to communicate to 
their readers. 

By one ancient division, practical morals were divided into 
benevolence, prudence, fortitude, and temperance. " Benevo- 
lence," says Dr. Paley, "proposes good ends; prudence sug- 
gests the best means of attaining them ; fortitude enables us to 
encounter the difficulties, dangers, and discouragements which 
stand in our way in pursuit of these ends ; temperance repels 
and overcomes the passions that obstruct it. Benevolence, for 
instance, prompts us to undertake the cause of an oppressed or- 
phan ; prudence suggests the best means of doing it ; fortitude 
enables us to confront the danger, and bear up against the loss, 
disgrace, or repulse that may attend our undertaking ; and tem- 
perance keeps under the love of money, ease, or amusement, 
which might divert us from it." * 

By another ancient division, virtue was divided into two 
branches, prudence and benevolence, — prudence consisting in 
attention to our own interest, benevolence in a regard for the 
interests of our fellow-men. The ancient moralists regarded 
prudence, fortitude, temperance, and justice, as the cardinal vir- 
tues. But they used these terms with a latitude of meaning quite 
unknown to them at the present time. 

By wisdom, among the ancients, was understood universal 
knowledge of things human and divine ; f while prudence {cpgovfjaig) 
was said to consist in a knowledge of things proper to be desired, 
or to be avoided. f Prudence, therefore, differed from wisdom, 
as a part differs from a w 7 hole. Prudence, moreover, with them, 

* Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 25. 

t Cicero de Officiis, Lib. I. c. 43. $ Idem, Lib. I. c. 43 ; Lib. III. c. 17. 



DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 63 

comprised what we call experience and practical skill, more es- 
pecially the skill and presence of mind requisite to take measures 
wisely according to circumstances and emergences.* When all 
the parts of our nature were in perfect concord with one another, 
when the passions never aimed at any gratification which reason 
did not approve, and when reason never commanded any thing 
but what these, of their own accord, were willing to perform ; 
this happy composure, this perfect and complete harmony of 
soul, constituted that virtue, which in the Latin language is ex- 
pressed by a term which we usually translate temperance, but 
which might more properly be translated equanimity, or sobriety 
and moderation of mind.f 

When the high-spirited passions, such as ambition, the love of 
excellence, the love of honor and the dread of shame, had that 
degree of strength and firmness, which enabled them, under the 
direction of reason, to despise all dangers in the pursuit of what 
was honorable and noble ; it constituted the virtue of fortitude. | 
The Stoics defined fortitude to consist in courage (virtus) con- 
tending on the side of justice. § Justice, the last and greatest 
of the cardinal virtues, was seen, when each of the faculties of 
the mind confined itself to its proper office, without attempting 
to encroach upon that of any other ; when reason directed and 
passion obeyed ; and when each passion performed its proper 
office, and exerted itself towards its proper object, easily and 
without reluctance, and with that degree of force and energy, 
which was suitable to the value of the object pursued. In this 
consisted that complete virtue, that perfect propriety of conduct, 
which Plato, after some of the ancient Pythagoreans, denomi- 
nated justice. || 

In modern times, moral philosophy has usually been divided 
according to the duties which it enjoins, rather than according to 
particular virtues ; thus, 1. Our duties towards God ; as piety, 
reverence, resignation, &c. 2. Our duties towards other men, 
that is, our relative duties ; as justice, charity, fidelity, &c. 

* Cicero de Officiis, Lib. I. c. 5 ; Lib. II. c. 9. Smith's Moral Sentiments, 
Vol. II. p. 68. 
t See Euripides' Medea, 635, 636. Smith's Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. p. 68. 
t Idem, Vol. II. pp. 67, 68. § Cicero de Officiis, Lib. I. c. 19. 

|f Smith's Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. p. 68. 



64 DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 

3. Duties towards ourselves ; as the preservation of life, care of 
health, chastity, sobriety, temperance, &c. This division has 
been retained by Dr. Paley, but still he does not seem to be 
satisfied with it.* 

There are duties public and private, personal, domestic, so- 
cial, and official. There are duties of peace and of war. There 
are duties appropriate to youth, to middle age, and to advanced 
life ; duties of sex, of condition, of time, of place, and of cir- 
cumstance. There are duties of patriotism and of good neigh- 
bourhood ; duties of health and of sickness. The great and 
permanent relations of husband and wife, of parents and children, 
of master and servant, all bring their duties with them. Wealth 
brings its duties, influence its duties, knowledge its duties, talents 
their duties, rank its duties, and all the professions and employ- 
ments of life their corresponding duties. It has not been easy 
to fix on a division which shall comprise all these particulars, 
and which shall, at the same time, be natural and perspicuous. 
After much reflection, I have concluded to use the following ; 

Part I. Our relation to God, and the moral duties thence 
arising. 

Part II. Our relation to our country, and the moral duties 
thence arising ; that is, the duties of patriotism. 

Part III. The chief relations of mankind to one another, 
and the duties thence arising ; that is, the duties which men re- 
ciprocally owe to each other. 

Part IV. Personal duties, or the duties of men to them- 
selves. 

Part V. A review of the chief professions and employ- 
ments of life, so far as regards the moral duties which they 
involve, their moral principles, practices, influences, tenden- 
cies, &c. 

Part VI. A special consideration of certain duties and vir- 
tues, of a character peculiarly Christian ; and a similar consider- 
tion of certain vices and evils. 

The conclusion of the treatise embraces a review of the chief 
means on which we are to rely, for improving the moral condition 
of mankind, and for advancing human happiness. 

* Moral and Political Philosophy, Book IV. p. 215. 



PART FIRST. 

OUR RELATION TO GOD, AND THE MORAL DUTIES 

THENCE ARISING. 



CHAPTER I. 

ELUCIDATION OF THIS HIGHEST OF OUR RELATIONS, AND OF THE 
MORAL INFLUENCE OF A BELIEF IN A SUPREME BEING. 

That high and supreme relation, which connects man with 
his Maker, cannot fail, if our minds have not been debased by 
sin, or perverted by sophistry, to be considered by us, as of all, 
the most sublime and interesting. Our Maker is not only the 
supreme and ultimate cause of our existence, but our kind and 
unceasing Benefactor. As he has existed from everlasting, so he 
will continue to exist to everlasting. The heavens which cover 
us, and the earth which lies beneath our feet, as well as our- 
selves, are the workmanship of his hands. His power is infi- 
nite, his wisdom is unerring, his benevolence is perfect. Be- 
sides conferring upon us an immortal existence, all our hopes 
and prospects for time and eternity depend on our securing his 
favor and averting his displeasure. 

Human excellence, even when most conspicuous, is blended 
with many imperfections, and seen amidst many defects. It is 
beheld only in detached and separate fragments, nor ever ap- 
pears, in any one character, perfect and entire. So that when, 
in imitation of the Stoics, we wish to form out of these frag- 
ments the image of a perfectly wise and good man, we are sen- 
sible, that it is a mere fiction of the mind, without any real 
being in whom it is embodied and realized. In the belief of a 
Deity, however, these conceptions are reduced to reality ; the 
scattered rays of an ideal excellence are concentrated, and be- 
come the real attributes of that Being with whom we stand in 
9 



66 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

the nearest relation, who sits supreme at the head of the uni- 
verse, and pervades all nature by his presence and power. 

The idea of the Supreme Being has this peculiar property ; 
that, as it admits of no substitute, so, from the first moment it 
is formed, it is capable of continual growth and enlargement. 
God himself is immutable, but our conception of his character 
is continually receiving fresh accessions, is continually becoming 
more extended and glorious, by having transferred to it new 
elements of sublimity and goodness, by attracting to itself, as a 
centre, whatever bears the impress of beauty, order, dignity, 
and happiness. It unites the splendor of every species of ex- 
cellence ; of all that is fair, great, and good in the universe. 
The idea of a Supreme Being, and of a superintending Provi- 
dence, invests the universe with all that is finished and consum- 
mate in sublimity and excellence. The admiration of perfect 
wisdom and goodness for which we are formed, and which kin- 
dles such glowing rapture in the soul, finds in this idea a source 
of full and exhaustless satisfaction. Thus contemplated, the 
world presents a fair spectacle of order, beauty, and harmony, of 
a vast family nourished and watched over by an Almighty 
Father. 

When we reflect, therefore, on the manner in which the idea 
of Deity is formed, and on the sublime interest which a belief 
in the Deity, the first fair, the first sublime, the first good, im- 
parts to the universe, we must be convinced, that such an idea 
and such a belief, intimately present to the mind, must have a 
most powerful effect in imbuing the mind with right moral 
tastes, affections, and, habits, — the elements of moral character, 
and the springs of moral action. The efficacy of these views 
in producing and augmenting virtuous tastes and habits, will, 
indeed, be proportioned to the vividness with which they are 
formed, and the frequency with which they recur ; yet some 
benefit will not fail to result from them even in their lowest de- 
gree. And as the object of religious worship will always be, 
in some measure, the object of imitation, hence arises a fixed 
standard of moral excellence ; by the contemplation of which, 
the tendencies of man to wickedness are counteracted, the conta- 
gion of evil example is checked, and human nature rises above 



Chap. I.] MORAL INFLUENCE OF A BELIEF IN GOD. 67 

its natural level. Our conception of the Deity, then, composed 
as it is of the richest moral elements, embraces, under the 
character of a Beneficent Parent and Almighty Ruler, whatever 
is venerable in wisdom, whatever is awful in authority, whatever 
is touching in goodness ; and a belief in this Supreme Being, 
and in his superintending Providence, has always been accom- 
panied by a salutary moral influence on mankind.* 

The argument, which has been advanced respecting the great 
and special moral influence arising from a belief in a God and 
his superintending Providence, may be confirmed by an appeal 
to the recorded convictions of mankind, as seen in the writings 
of all times and every country. And this is a position of so 
much importance, that it may be well to set it in a perfectly 
clear light, by subjoining a few illustrations of this kind. 

Mr. Addison, in the person of Cato, has well declared the 
natural and settled convictions of mankind at all times. 

" If there 's a power above us, 
And that there is, all nature cries aloud 
Through all her works, he must delight in virtue ; 
And that which he delights in must be happy ; " — 

that is, must lead men to happiness. f An oath for confirma- 
tion, — >an end of all strife, \ is coeval with any considerable ad- 
vancement in civilization among all nations, and is a public re- 
cognition of the moral influence of a belief in a Divinity, 
equally familiar and venerable. The moral influence of a be- 
lief in a Divinity, shows, moreover, the indissoluble connexion 
which subsists between religion and morals, as also between reli- 
gious sentiment and moral character and conduct. " Let no one," 
says Plato, u utter falsehood, or deceive, or commit any impure 
act with an invocation of the gods, unless he wishes to render 
himself hateful to the Divinity." § The prayer of Cyrus when 
death was approaching, is instructive in the same point of view.[| 
The works of Cicero are everywhere rich in instruction to the 
same effect. " However much," says he, " we may be disposed 
to exalt our advantages, it is nevertheless certain, that we have 
been surpassed in population by the Spaniards, in physical force 

* Robert Hall's Works, Vol. I. p. 30. t Tragedy of Cato, V. 1. 

% Heb. vi. 16. § Quoted by Rosenmtlller, in Exod. xx. 7. 

|| Xenophon, Cyri Disciplina, Lib. VIII. c. 7. 



68 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

by the Gauls, in shrewdness and cunning by Carthage, in the 
fine arts by Greece, and in mere native talent by some of our 
Italian fellow-countrymen ; but, in the single point of attention to 
religion, we have exceeded other nations, and it is by the fa- 
vorable influence of this circumstance upon the character of the 
people, that I account for our success in acquiring the political and 
military ascendency that we now enjoy throughout the world." * 
All who are familiar with the Greek tragedies know how many 
illustrations might be drawn from thence. I content myself with 
a single specimen from Sophocles' CEdipus Tyrannus. The 
Chorus sings thus ; — line 863, &c. 

" Grant me, henceforth, ye powers divine, 
In virtue's purest paths to tread ; 
In every word, in every deed, 
May sanctity of manners ever shine, 
Obedient to the laws of Jove, 
The laws descended from above." 

Again, 

" Perish the impious and profane, 
Who, void of reverential fear, 
Nor justice nor the laws revere ; 
Who leave their God, for pleasure or for gain ; 
Who swell by fraud their ill-got store ; 
Who rob the wretched and the poor." 

But the most instructive passage to be found in all heathen anti- 
quity, illustrative of the moral effect of a belief in " a power 
above us," is in Claudian, and must be familiar to every classi- 
cal scholar. f Such is a specimen of the recorded convictions 
of heathen writers on this subject ; and it shows, among other 
things, how much superior, in its moral tendency, heathenism 
is to the atheism, or even to the skepticism of our days. 

I scarcely know whether it may be advisable to add any 
thing to the preceding from Christian times and Christian authors ; 
but, at the risk of doing what is superfluous, I will subjoin some 
few confirmations of this kind. To collect, however, the senti- 
ments of individuals would be an endless task, and, after all, might 
not be satisfactory. It may be more useful to resort for testi- 

* Quoted by A. H. Everett, in the Senate of Massachusetts, 1831. 
t In Rufinum, Lib. I. ; translated in the London Quarterly Review, No. 
LXXXV. p. 187. 



Chap. I.] MORAL INFLUENCE OF A BELIEF IN GOD. 69 

mony to distinguished bo-dies or communities of men, and to this 
end, I will quote a few examples of the deliberate and well-con- 
sidered sentiments of the American Revolutionary Congress. 

On occasion of recommending a fast, this Congress declared, 
that " the great Governor of the world, by his supreme and uni- 
versal Providence, not only conducts the course of nature with 
unerring wisdom and rectitude, but frequently influences the 
minds of men to serve the wise and gracious purposes of his 
providential government; that it is, at all times, our indispensable 
duty devoutly to acknowledge his superintending Providence, 
and to reverence and adore his immutable justice." * They say, 
(March 16th, 1776,) they are "desirous to have people of all 
ranks and degrees duly impressed with a solemn sense of God's 
superintending Providence, and of their duty devoutly to rely, in 
all their lawful enterprises, on his aid and direction." They 
declare the end of setting apart the day to be, "that we may 
with united hearts confess and bewail our manifold sins and trans- 
gressions, and, by a sincere repentance and amendment of life, 
appease his righteous displeasure, and, through the merits and 
mediation of Jesus Christ, obtain his pardon and forgiveness." 
March 7th, 1778, they recommend a similar day, "that, at one 
time and with one voice, the inhabitants may acknowledge the 
righteous dispensations of Divine Providence, confess their in- 
iquities and transgressions, and implore the mercy and forgiveness 
of God, and beseech him that vice, profaneness, extortion, and 
every evil may be done away, and that we may be a reformed and 
happy people" Another proclamation of March 11th, 1780, 
recommends, " that we may, with one heart and one voice, im- 
plore the Sovereign Lord of heaven and earth to remember 
mercy in his judgments, to make us sincerely penitent for our 
transgressions, to banish vice and irreligion from among us, and 
establish virtue and piety by his divine grace." March 20th, 
1781, u That we may with united hearts confess and bewail our 
manifold sins and transgressions, and by sincere repentance and 
amendment of life, appease his righteous displeasure, and, through 
the merits of our blessed Saviour, obtain pardon and forgiveness ; 

* Journals of Congress, 12th June, 1775. 



70 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

that it may please him to inspire our rulers with incorruptible 
integrity, and to direct and prosper their councils ; that it may 
please him to bless all schools and seminaries of learning, and 
to grant that truth, justice , and benevolence, and pure and unde- 
jiled religion may universally prevail." 

Such is a small specimen of the sentiments of the illustrious 
fathers of the American revolution, on the moral tendency and 
effect of a belief in God and his superintending Providence. 
They do honor to their authors, and are the best illustration, by 
way of authority, of the practical moral efficacy of a belief in 
the God of heaven and earth, which could well be given. I may 
fear having done them injustice by quoting so small a part of their 
valuable sentiments, dispersed through the Congressional docu- 
ments. They are worthy of the serious and careful perusal of 
every American citizen. * 

Belief in God, then, and in his superintending Providence, is 
alike the foundation of morals and of religion. In God is con- 
centrated all that is sublime, glorious, holy, and happy. A belief 
in him includes something more than a mere acknowledgment of 
his existence ; it includes a belief in him, as he has made himself 
known in his works, f and more especially in the revelation which 
he has made of himself, his nature, his attributes, and his will 
respecting mankind, in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testa- 
ment. But the moral effect of a belief in God, and of the great 
truths embraced in such belief, will depend very much on the 
strength and vividness of our conviction and on the fulness and 
exactness of the instruction which we have received. 

Unquestionably, the existence of God, of his Providence, and 
of the great truths of Divine revelation, may be acknowledged in 
general terms, without a corresponding moral effect being seen in 
the life and conversation. The heathen, whose case St. Paul 
describes, | acknowledged God, (knew God,) still they glorified 
him not as God, neither were thankful ; but became vain in their 
imaginations and their foolish heart was darkened. So darkened, 



* Larger portions of them are quoted, and all of them are referred to, in Note 
E. pp. 35-39, of a Sermon preached by the Author before the Convention of 
the Protestant Episcopal Church of the Diocese of South Carolina, 1833. 2d ed. 

t Rom. i. 20. $ Rom. i. 19-32. 



Chap. II.] DUTY OF REVERENCING GOD. 71 

indeed, did their understandings become, by reason of their re- 
jecting the knowledge of God, that although they professed them- 
selves to be wise, they were guilty of the foolishness of changing 
the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to 
corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creep- 
ing things ; and moreover, of changing the truth of God into a 
lie, and worshipping and serving the creature more than the Crea- 
tor, who is blessed for ever. It was for this, that God gave them 
up to unnatural lusts and every species of vile affections. Grow- 
ing worse and worse, u as they did not like to retain God in their 
knowledge," (v. 28,) " he gave them over to a reprobate mind," 
and, after their hardness and impenitent hearts, to treasure up 
wrath to themselves against the day of wrath and the revelation of 
the righteous judgment of God.* To prevent a declension to the 
ways of vice and the depths of sin so fatal, and to keep up in 
men's minds that strong conviction and deep sense of God, 
which is the root and branch of practical morals, and which the 
Scriptures call faith in him, we must rely on the conscientious 
performance of the duties which spring from the relation which 
we sustain to him ; which duties are now to be examined and 
unfolded. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE GENERAL DUTY OF REVERENCING GOD. 

When submitted to a careful and exact analysis, reverence for 
the Deity comprises a deep sense of our own insignificance, — 
of his divine majesty, his incomprehensible nature, his eternal 
existence, knowing equally no beginning and no end ; of his 
Almighty power, to which all things are equally easy, and in 
whose operations all degrees of facility, whether in the creation 
of a world or of an atom, are unknown ; of our ignorance, and of 
his omniscience and divine wisdom, unsearchable and past finding 

* Rom. ii. 5. 



72 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

out ; a sense of our dependence, and of his absolute and perfect 
independence of time, place, circumstances, and events ; a 
sense of our sinfulness, and of his immaculate and essential holi- 
ness, in whose sight the very heavens are unclean. * 

Reverence for God includes, moreover, reverence for his 
name, which is holy and reverend, f and not to be used in vain ; 
for his attributes, his revelation of himself, his worship, and his 
ordinances. It comprises again, a respectful regard for his 
ministers who serve at the altar, for the edifices consecrated to 
his service, and for whatever else pertains to the celebration of 
his worship. It is not necessary to say, that levity in regard 
to these subjects, or any of them, and still more all sneering and 
scoffing, are totally inconsistent with the smallest degree of rever- 
ence for God. They indicate a heart destitute of every vestige 
of religious feeling, an understanding steeled against all conviction 
of religious truth, and both a heart and an understanding equally 
inaccessible to any religious impression. In such a state of the 
feelings, the truth can take no hold on the consciences of men, 
and no fair and candid estimate can be made of the all-command- 
ing claims, sanctions, and evidences of religion. In this condi- 
tion, they are beyond the reach of human aid ; and there is, in 
truth, no aid for them, but in the awakening, enlightening, and 
sanctifying power and grace of that Holy Spirit, from whom " all 
holy desires, all good counsels, and all just works proceed." 
The fate of despisers of the truth and ordinances of God is, to 
wonder and perish. Their perdition shall be amazing and won- 
derful to themselves and all around them. They are men rep- 
robate concerning the faith and to every good work. J 

What has been said of ridicule, sneering, and scoffing, applies 
substantially to all sarcasms, jestings, and even pleasantry, when 
exercised upon the Scriptures, or upon the places, persons, and 
forms set apart for the service of religion. They are alike in- 
consistent with a religious frame of mind ; for, as no one ever 
either feels himself disposed to pleasantry, or capable of being 
diverted with the pleasantry of others, upon matters in which he 
is deeply interested ; so a mind intent upon the acquisition of 

* Job xv. 15. t Ps. cxi. 9. i Acts xiii. 41 ; 2 Tim. iii. 8; Tit. i. 16. 



Chap. III.] DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 73 

heaven rejects, with indignation, every attempt to entertain it 
with jests, calculated to degrade or deride subjects which it 
never recollects but with seriousness and anxiety. Nothing but 
stupidity, or the most frivolous dissipation of thought, can make 
even the inconsiderate forget the supreme importance of every 
thing which relates to the expectation of a future existence. 
Whilst the infidel mocks at the superstitions of the vulgar, as he 
chooses to consider them, insults over their credulous fears, their 
childish errors, or fantastic rites, it does not occur to him to 
observe, that the most preposterous device, by which the weakest 
devotee ever believed he was securing the happiness of a future 
life, is more rational than unconcern about it. Upon this sub- 
ject, nothing is so absurd as indifference ; no folly so absurd as 
thoughtlessness and levity. * 



CHAPTER III. 

THE DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 

There is a distinction between reverencing and worshipping 
God. Both are external duties, and God is the immediate object 
of both ; the distinction between them is, that the one is nega- 
tive, the other positive ; the one consists in abstaining from some 
impious act, the other in performing some act of piety. When, 
from a sense of duty to God, we rest on Sunday during a jour- 
ney, we perform a duty of reverence ; when, from the same 
motive, we attend church on Sunday, we perform an act of 
worship. f 

The special object of worshipping God, is, to keep up that 
reverence for him in the mind, which cannot be preserved with- 
out habitual attendance on some external service, by which a 
habit of devotion and reverence, and their consequent moral 
influences may be maintained. The formation, preservation, 
and strengthening of this habit of devotion and reverence for 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 270. t Idem, p. 230. 

10 



74 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

God and divine things, together with instruction in the doctrines 
and duties of Christianity, are the aim and end of divine worship, 
and in them its public and private benefit consists. 

This subject is an important one, and comprises, — the natu- 
ralness and reasonableness of divine worship, private and public ; 
— the subject matter of which, prayer, thanksgiving, and praise 
ought to consist ; — a review of the part of public worship designed 
specially for instruction, consisting of the reading of the Scrip- 
tures, preaching, and catechetical instruction; — and an illustra- 
tion of the benefits, public and private, of divine worship, when 
attended with diligence and with a suitable temper and spirit. 

1. The naturalness and reasonableness of divine worship, pri- 
vate and public. A conviction of the existence and influence, 
as has before been said, of "a power above us," which guides 
our destinies, to which we are responsible, to which we are 
bound equally by duty and interest to have regard, whose favor 
we may gain and whose displeasure we may propitiate, by some 
exertions which we may use and some sacrifices which we may 
make, seems, in all ages and among all nations, to have been 
irresistibly forced on the understandings of mankind. * Under 
the influence of this natural conviction, men have always raised 
their minds in prayer to some superior Being, or beings, as is 
attested by the literary remains of every nation under heaven. It 
is true that this natural sentiment has often been greatly obscured 
by ignorance, by neglect, and by great misuse and perversion of 
talents ; but no debasement of savage life, of false religion, or 
even of settled habits of sin, formed, cherished, and persevered in 
amidst the bright shining of the Gospel itself, has been able en- 
tirely to suppress and drive it from the human mind. 

Accordingly, the literature of Greek and Roman antiquity, 
and the Hindoo and Chinese literature of the present day, are 
filled with prayers and thanksgivings to the various deities which 
they acknowledged. These are the more cultivated forms of 
heathenism, but its ruder forms all contain evidences of the same 
natural sentiment and feeling. This may be called natural piety ; 
and however obscured and perverted, it is still good proof of the 
natural conviction described by St. Paul, and of the natural sen- 

* Romans i. 20. 



Chap. Ill] DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 75 

timent and feeling evinced by mankind. Some of these prayers, 
the offspring of this natural piety, and of an unperverted con- 
science, are not without pure and sublime conceptions of the 
Deity, and just views of human wants suitable to be expressed 
in prayer. Dr. Lowth says of the Hymn of Cleantbes, the 
Stoic, inscribed to Jove, — " It is doubtless a most noble monu- 
ment of ancient wisdom, and replete with truths not less solid 
than magnificent. For, the sentiments of the philosopher con- 
cerning the divine power, concerning the harmony of nature and 
the supreme laws, concerning the folly and unhappiness of wicked 
men, who are unceasingly subject to the pain and perturbation of 
a troubled spirit, and above all," continues he, " the ardent sup- 
plication for the divine assistance, in order to enable him to cele- 
brate the praises of the Omnipotent Deity in a suitable manner, 
and in a perpetual strain of praise and adoration ; all of these 
breathe so true and unaffected a spirit of piety, that they seem in 
some measure to approach the excellence of the sacred poetry." # 
The Mahometan religion is partly derived from Judaism and 
Christianity, and is less absurd than any form of heathenism. 
The habit of public prayer among the Mahometans is well 
known. In such countries, the Mouzeens on the minarets f are 
accustomed, 

" to proclaim the hour 
For prayer appointed, and with sonorous voice, 
Thrice in melodious modulation full, 
To pronounce the highest name. l There is no God 
But God,' they cry ; ' there is no God but God ! 
Mahommed is the Prophet of the Lord ! 
Come ye to prayer ! to prayer ! The Lord is great ! 
There is no God but God ! '" 

It cannot be necessary to do more than merely advert, in this 
connexion, to the frequency and earnestness with which the Jew- 
ish and Christian Scriptures enjoin the same duty. Men of all 
climes, then, of all ages, and of all religions, have concurred in 
the propriety and the practice of lifting up the mind to God in 
prayer. This universality is the best of all proofs of the natu- 
ralness of Divine worship. 

* Lectures on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews. Lect. XXIX. Gregory's 
Translation, 
t See Walsh's National Gazette, Nov. 7th, 1835. 



76 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

The reasonableness of Divine worship might be inferred from 
the mere fact of its being natural, as we have seen ; but it may- 
be well to give it some further illustration. Prayer is expressive 
of our dependence upon God ; and, as all our privileges and en- 
joyments are the effects of his unmerited goodness, it becomes 
us to ask, if we would receive them. Man is created in God's 
own image ; * there must, then, be such a resemblance between 
the image and the high Original, as to justify us in reasoning 
analogically, provided we do it with sufficient caution, from the 
image to the Original. We all know how much men are influ- 
enced by a request made in a suitable temper and spirit. And, 
if this is reasonable in men, made after the image of God, is it 
not reasonable, that the Great Original should be influenced by 
prayer proffered before his throne in the spirit of dependence, 
and in acknowledgment that every good and perfect gift comes 
from him ? 

It is reasonable, moreover, that we should not only offer up 
prayer and thanksgiving privately, but also in public. For God 
is to be regarded as the universal benefactor of mankind, from 
whom we all have received public blessings, and to whom, there- 
fore, we owe public acknowledgments. Private prayer and 
thanksgiving are, by no means, adequate returns for public 
blessings. 

Convinced, then, that prayer and thanksgiving are both natural 
and reasonable, and knowing that they are enjoined as an imper- 
ative Christian duty, we shall not be moved by the skeptical 
sophism, " If it be most agreeable to perfect wisdom and justice 
that we should receive what we desire, God, as perfectly wise 
and just, will give it to us without asking ; if it be not agreeable 
to these attributes of his nature, our entreaties cannot move him 
to give it us, and it were impious to expect that they should." 
More briefly thus ; "If what we request be fit for us, we shall 
have it without praying ; if it be not fit for us, we cannot ob- 
tain it by praying." f 

This is the substance of all that can be said against prayer, — 
and it admits of an answer entirely satisfactory. It is very true, 

* Gen. i. 27; Col. iii. 10. t Paley's Moral and Polit. Phil., p. 231. 



Chap. III.] DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 77 

that God will grant us what is fit ; but it is equally true, that it 
is not fit for him to throw away his favors upon those who will 
not pray for them with an humble sense of their dependence, and 
receive them with a grateful sense of his goodness. God is a 
perfect being, but it is no attribute of a perfect being to be inex- 
orable. God grants our petitions, not merely because we pray, 
but because prayer, sincere and earnest prayer, though it does 
not make him more willing to bestow, makes us more Jit and 
more qualified to receive his favors. The fitness of the thing 
depends upon the qualifications of the individual, and the qualifi- 
cation of the individual to receive, depends upon that holy, hum- 
ble frame of mind, from which all sincere prayer proceeds. It 
is not said, that the Deity is changed by our prayers, but that 
the relation in which we stand to the Deity is changed, when, 
from living in sin and disregard of God, we come to adore him 
in sincerity and truth. 

2. The subject matter of which prayer and thanksgiving ought 
to consist. Prayer and thanksgiving, whether written or extem- 
poraneous, are, so far as the matter and style are concerned, gov- 
erned by the same rules. They should contain just conceptions of 
the Deity and of his attributes. Unworthy conceptions of God 
destroy or impair the purity and dignity of public worship, in 
which all things should u be done decently and in order," * and 
prevent it from having that moral influence which it is so well 
calculated to exercise. Men of every condition attend public 
worship, and erroneous or unworthy conceptions of the Deity 
thus become the error of multitudes. 

Again, they should express only those wants, desires, and 
aspirations, which will probably be felt by the congregation. 
Ideas in which the congregation can feel no interest, should not 
be introduced. Those prayers are the most suitable, which are 
best fitted to keep alive the devotion of the assembly. Confes- 
sion of sin, humiliation before God for its commission, petitions 
for forgiveness, acknowledgment of divine mercies, and aspira- 
tions after increased holiness, must enter into the prayers of " all 
orders and estates of men." They should contain, also, as few 



* 1 Cor. xiv. 40. 



78 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

controverted sentiments as possible. Scriptural ideas, scriptural 
sentiments, subjects, and even expressions, or such as are close- 
ly analogous to them, should be principally, if not exclusively 
used. The style of prayer and thanksgiving should be calm, 
solemn, dignified, earnest, and pathetic. Every thing light, and 
especially all quaintness, affectation, smartness, and prettiness of 
expression, are inconsistent with every part of divine worship, 
and most of all with prayer and thanksgiving.* 

Among the subjects of prayer, we are encouraged in Scrip- 
ture to pray for national blessings, to intercede for others, to re- 
peat unsuccessful prayer, he. ; — but we are most particularly 
encouraged and enjoined to pray for the Holy Spirit, to the in- 
fluences of whom " all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just 
works " are ascribed. f The fruit of the Spirit, for which we 
are taught to pray, is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, 
goodness, faith, meekness, temperance, in all righteousness and 
truth4 

It would be absurd to deny the operations of the Holy Spirit 
because we are not sensible of them, and do not know how God 
influences the soul.§ We ought rather to reason thus ; we 
know that we have been holden up by God ever since we were 
born ; yet we have not an intimate consciousness and feeling of 
that influence by which he sustains us, or any knowledge how he 
upholds our existence ; — in the same manner, we prove from 
Scripture, that he conveys his grace to us, but are strangers to 
the manner in which he dispenses it. We are as much depend- 
ent on the assistance of God for our spiritual life, as we are for 
our natural life ; and the manner in which this assistance is com- 
municated is as much unknown in the one case as in the other. 
It is no objection to this doctrine, that the powers of nature and 
the influences of grace are so blended within us that we cannot 
easily distinguish them. For, no more can we, in all cases, dis- 
tinguish our foreign acquirements from the fruits of our own ge- 
nius. We can no more exactly determine, in every particular, 

* Paley, Moral and Political Philosophy, pp. 210-214. 
t Luke xi. 13; John xiv. 26 ; Acts vi. 3 ; Rom. v. 5. 
t Gal. v. 22; Eph. v. 9. § John iii. 8. 



Chap. III.] DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 79 

what is natural to us, and what has been acquired by us, than we 
can what is the effect of our own endeavours, and what is the 
result of the influences of the Holy Spirit. 

Those, who disbelieve the assistances of divine grace because 
they have not an inward sense of them, should consider, that an 
inward and distinct perception of the motions of the Holy Spirit 
would be inconsistent with that degree of freedom, which is neces- 
sary to a state of probation. If we could trace the inward work- 
ings of the Spirit, it would be too great a restraint upon us, and 
would overpower the will. Such a manifest evidence of the 
divine presence in us, as the sensible influence of the Holy 
Spirit, would be overbearing and irresistible, and would impair, 
if not destroy, the freedom of the will. We walk by faith and 
not by sights — by faith grounded upon rational and substantial 
proofs, — not by sight, not by any sensible indications of the 
Spirit dwelling in us, and working distinctly in us. The proof 
of the indwelling of the Spirit consists in the effects produced 
upon our hearts and lives. 

3. Of the part of divine service which consists in giving in- 
struction by reading the Scriptures, preaching, and catechetical 
instruction, it does not seem necessary for a moral philosopher 
to notice any but preaching and catechetical instruction. The 
object of preaching is, to enlighten ignorance on the most im- 
portant of all subjects, to rouse indifference, to awaken the care- 
less, to encourage the desponding, and to edify and build up the 
pious in the holy faith and order of the Gospel. To effect 
all this, the preacher has peculiar advantages. He is invested 
with a commission from the King of kings ; and, by virtue of this 
commission, he proclaims truth of transcendent importance. The 
pastoral relation, too, by which the preacher is connected with 
his flock, is one of the most interesting which exists on earth. 
The preacher publishes truth, also, in the most effective of all 
ways, — by the living voice. He announces it, moreover, to 
an assembly withdrawn from the business, the amusements, and 
the perplexities of the world, and on a day set apart for this 
peculiar, this holy purpose. With a view to effect and impres- 
sion, he may select any subject within the wide range of theology 
and morals. One of the strongest passions of mankind is love 



80 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

of variety ; and the customs of the pulpit permit him to turn this 
passion to good account, by availing himself of the services of 
his brethren in exchange for his own. Cowper may be pre- 
sumed to have had these advantages in mind when he said, — 

" The pulpit, in the sober use 
Of its legitimate, peculiar powers, 

Must stand acknowledged, while the world shall stand, 
The most important and effectual guard, 
Support, and ornament of virtue's cause." * 

There are two points on which it merits an inquiry, whether 
the pulpit might not be made more effectual for its great pur- 
poses than it usually has been. It may well be doubted, whether 
the pulpit has not exerted its immense power too exclusively in 
the illustration and enforcement of doctrines, and to the neglect 
of morals. f While doctrinal sermons abound everywhere, — 
how small, comparatively, is the number of sermons in which 
Christian morals are very ably discussed and illustrated. This 
neglect to illustrate and enforce the moral duties of Christianity 
seems to have been increasing during the last century, and exists 
more in this country than in Great Britain. If the whole 
strength of the pulpit, u in the exercise of its legitimate peculiar 
powers," were directed against certain immoral maxims, habits, 
and usages, which extensively prevail, it is not to be doubted, 
that, within a few years, a much more healthful moral tone might 

* The Task, Book II. 

t On this topic, I am in danger of being misunderstood, and this I am anxious 
to prevent. The term " moral preacher " has unfortunately become a term of 
reproach, both in this country and in England. This reproachful use of the 
term undoubtedly arose from the delinquencies of a certain class of English 
preachers, whose sermons are described by Dr. Southey, as containing " nothing 
to rouse a slumbering conscience, nothing to alarm the soul at a sense of its 
danger, no difficulties expounded to confirm the wavering, no mighty truths 
enforced to rejoice the faithful, — to look for theology here," continues he, 
" would be seeking pears from the elm ; — only a little smooth morality, such as 
Turk, Jew, or Infidel may listen to without offence, sparkling with metaphors 
and similes, and rounded off with a text of Scripture, a scrap of poetry, or, better 
than either, a quotation from Ossian." (Espriella's Letters, Vol. I. p. 210.) 
To prevent all misunderstanding of my meaning, I will illustrate it by examples. 
Dr. Beecher's " Six Sermons on Intemperance," — Bishop Jeremy Taylor's two 
Sermons on the " Wedding Ring," — and the great body of Dr. Barrow's Ser- 
mons, are specimens of what I mean and recommend by moral preaching. 



Chap. III.] DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 81 

be infused into society. We see what might be done by the 
pulpit in restraining other vices, by what it has done in check- 
ing the evil of intemperate drinking. 

Again, the instructions of the pulpit are too much of a desul- 
tory character. The preacher discusses one subject on the 
morning of Sunday, another in the afternoon, and still another 
on the morning of the coming Sunday. In this respect, the 
pulpit is unlike any other place of instruction. Every teacher 
and every learner of the sciences understands the importance of 
method and connexion in his instructions, and that he cannot 
expect success without them. Is not this want of systematic, 
connected instruction, too little regarded in the pulpit ? The 
usual method of unconnected preaching, seems to have originated 
in the inability of the clergy to prepare a systematic, well-di- 
gested course of pulpit instruction. Many men are qualified to 
preach on subjects selected without regard to connexion, who 
would be inadequate to prepare a systematic, instructive course. 
But clerical education is so much advanced at the present day, 
that very many clergymen must be fully qualified to discuss, 
illustrate, and enforce the doctrines and morals of Christianity, 
with system and due connexion. 

The truth is, that the usual style of preaching has considerable 
merits joined with very striking defects ; so striking, indeed, 
that I am convinced, the pulpit is deprived of very much of its 
legitimate power by their existence. It merits the serious and 
mature consideration of those who have authority and influence 
in the church, whether there ought not to be at least a partial 
change. Might not the peculiar advantages of the customary 
and the systematic style be* combined, by giving the mornings of 
Sundays to systematic preaching, and the afternoons to preach- 
ing on subjects selected with reference to the peculiar condition, 
wants, and circumstances of the congregation. By this change, 
should we not retain the excellences and remedy the defects of 
the present style of preaching ? 

It has been matter of regret with pious men generally, that 

catechetical instruction has fallen into such neglect in late times. 

In the primitive ages of the church, there was a well-known 

class of religious teachers named catechists, whose office it was, 

11 



82 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

to instruct children in the elements of the Christian religion. In 
primitive times, too, there were great numbers of catechumens 
who had come to years of discretion ; but, having been born of 
heathen parents, had not been baptized ; — these also were in- 
structed by catechists, preparatory to baptism. At present, 
children are generally instructed in the catechism, when they re- 
ceive any instruction, by their parents, and are at stated times 
examined, in the church after divine service, by the minister 
of the parish to which they belong. This union of parental 
and clerical instruction in the rudiments of Christianity, has 
many advantages to recommend it ; and, in many parishes, is so 
conducted, as, in a very good degree, to accomplish its object. 
Sunday school instruction, moreover, has, within the last half- 
century, taken the place, in a great measure, of the ancient 
system of catechetical instruction. Still, immense numbers of 
children continue to receive little or no religious education, and 
the general regret of pious men, above adverted to, still continues 
to be not without just grounds. The first principles of reli- 
gion, must, still more than those of other subjects, in order to 
be taught effectively, be taught during early childhood and youth. 
Even with the best religious education of children, there is al- 
ways too much reason to fear, that, as they advance in life, the 
cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts 
of other things entering in, may choke the instruction given, and 
render it unfruitful.* 

4. The benefits, both private and public, which wait on public 
worship, are neither few nor small. Prayer has a manifest ten- 
dency to nourish in us those very graces and virtues for which 
we pray. We shall earnestly desire lhat for which we habitually 
and earnestly pray ; and what we earnestly desire, we shall en- 
deavour to attain. Warm desires naturally ripen into corre- 
sponding conduct, made manifest in the life and conversation. 

Again, by prostrating ourselves in prayer before Him who is 
clothed with majesty and honor, the pride, arrogance, and self- 
sufficiency of prosperity are checked, and the discouragement, 
depression, and despair of adversity are softened and relieved. 

* Mark iv. 19. 



Chap. Ill] DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 83 

Its influence, too, in aiding us to curb our passions, which are 
always too impatient of restraint, is very great. A habit of 
prayer accustoms us to a sense of the Divine presence, and se- 
cures us all its accompanying moral influences. It cherishes in 
us universal benevolence, an enlarged humanity, and a tender and 
sympathizing temper. Those pure and exalted sentiments and 
feelings, to which we accustom ourselves in the hours of devotion, 
will open and enlarge the understanding w T ith the most sincere 
and impartial good-will, will free us from all rancor to our ene- 
mies, from too exclusive an attachment to our friends, and from 
indifference to the rest of mankind. Prayers for all mankind, 
offered up daily to Him who is the universal parent of mankind, 
are benevolence, as well as devotion, put in practice every day. 

But the special benefits of public worship may be stated more 
particularly. 1. It does not seem possible to maintain, in a 
community, any practical knowledge of God, and the practical 
ascendency of Christian principles, without a stated public ser- 
vice. This seems so obvious as scarcely to require either argu- 
ment or illustration. Even where public religious service is 
constantly maintained, and the Gospel is preached in its purity 
and power, many live in disregard of God and the obligations of 
religion, and scoff* at all divine things. Much more would this 
be the case, if religion sought the shades, and entirely immured 
itself, like a recluse, in the closet. In such a state of things, 
open infidelity and impiety would sweep over the land, like the 
pestilence which destroyeth at noonday. It is not more cer- 
tain that night succeeds to day, than that the want of stated pub- 
lic divine service, or the general neglect and contempt of such 
service, must end in general irreverence of the Deity, and that to 
this irreverence of the Deity must succeed universal dissolute- 
ness of morals, and all the overflowings of ungodliness. 

" Religion is the presiding and genial influence over every 
system of morals." * Every man capable of reflection must be 
convinced, that, if public worship were once discontinued, a uni- 
versal forgetfulness would ensue of that God, whom to remember 
is the highest security and the most effectual preservative against 

* Mr. Clay's Speech in the U. S. Senate, 26th December, 1833. 



84 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

vice ; and that the bulk of mankind would soon degenerate into 
mere savages and barbarians, if there were not stated days to 
call them off from the common business of life, to attend to the 
all-important business of securing their salvation. As well may 
we expect law and order to maintain their influence in the land, 
without tribunals to declare, and a magistracy to execute the law, 
as to expect that religion will flourish or even exist, without a 
stated public celebration of its services and ordinances. 

2. Again ; the moral and religious instruction gained by an ha- 
bitual attendance on public worship, is beyond measure valuable, 
especially to those who have small opportunities of gaining in- 
struction elsewhere. To this more than to any other cause it is 
owing, that, in Christian countries, some degree of intelligence 
is diffused among all orders of men. No man born in a Chris- 
tian country needs to live and die without adequate instruction 
in whatever pertains to virtue and godliness. 

3. Moreover, the habitual assembling of men of every variety 
of rank, fortune, and education, in the same edifice, to join in a 
common religious service, has a sensible tendency to unite man- 
kind in the bonds of a common fellowship, to cherish and enlarge 
the generous affections, and, by contemplating their common re- 
lation to the Governor of all things, to remind them of the natu- 
ral equality of the human species, and thereby to promote hu- 
mility and condescension in the more wealthy, the more learned, 
and the more honorable ; and to inspire the humbler ranks 
with a sense of their rights and with some degree of self-respect. 
Office, birth, knowledge, wealth, and other distinctions known 
and acknowledged among men, are recognised by Scripture ; 
and corresponding duties are enjoined on those who enjoy these 
advantages and honors. We are to render their dues to all ; 
tribute to whom tribute is due ; custom to whom custom ; fear 
to whom fear ; honor to whom honor.* 

These distinctions, too, are sanctioned by Divine Providence 
as a part of the system of human affairs ; no community has 
existed without them, they seem inevitable ; and, if accom- 
panied by a proper spirit, are conducive to the welfare of 

* Rom. xiii. 7 ; Matt. xxii. 21. 



Chap. III.] DUTY OF WORSHIPPING GOD. 85 

mankind. But they are usually carried too far, and valued too 
much, by those who enjoy them ; and the spirit, which they tend 
to nourish, estranges and alienates brethren of the same great 
family from each other, by causing discontent, distrust, jealousy, 
and envy. It is well, indeed, if they do not rouse the fiercer pas- 
sions of hatred, malice, and revenge. The magistrate feels that 
he represents the state, and infers from thence, that the official 
dignity, with which his person is clothed, must not be defiled by 
too much intercourse with the common people. Pride of birth 
must not be soiled by the touch of any thing homebred and 
ignoble. Learning cannot condescend to hold communion with 
ignorance, and wealth looks down with insolence upon the 
poor, the unfortunate, and the depressed. They move in dis- 
tinct and exclusive circles, studiously assorted on the ground 
of these distinctions, and their almost inevitable effect is, to 
impair, if not to destroy the good feeling which ought to unite 
all mankind by the bonds of a mutual sympathy and interest. If, 
at any time, the poor man is seen at the tribunal of the magis- 
trate, it is probably because he is dragged there to answer to the 
suit or prosecution of some rich and fortunate oppressor. If he 
visits the palaces of aristocratic pride, it is not to partake of 
their enjoyments, — these are reserved for guests made of like 
clay with their proprietors. 

" Materia nostra constare, paribusque elementis." * 

If he enters the mansions of the rich and the halls of the 
learned, he still finds that he is not permitted to participate in 
the treasures which they contain. 

4. The church is the only place, in which the various classes 
of mankind meet each other on any thing like equal terms. In 
the house of God, the exclusive spirit, nourished by the arti- 
ficial distinctions of human pride and power, stands rebuked 
before the immeasurable distance, by which the highest of 
mortals is separated from the throne of the Almighty. Men 
are addressed there, not according to the wealth they have ac- 
quired, or the other distinctions by which they are known, but 
as alike the sinful children of a common parent, having similar 



* Juvenal, Sat. XIV. 17. 



86 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

wants and desires, and alike standing in need of the great salva- 
tion. Men are there reminded, most impressively, of the brief 
continuance and comparative insignificance of the distinctions, 
which they so earnesdy covet, and so inordinately prize. The 
solemn lesson is there forced upon their minds, that, whatever 
.accidental distinctions they may win, they have all commenced 
life, and must all finish it, on the same terms. It is emphatically 
there, that, as the wisest of men says, " the rich and the poor 
meet together, the Lord is the Maker of them all."* 

By thus habitually joining in the stated solemnities of a com- 
mon religious service, the pride of purse, of knowledge, of sta- 
tion, of ancestry, and of personal accomplishments, is laid in the 
dust of humiliation before God ; the estrangement and alienation 
in which the different classes of mankind are accustomed to live, 
are diminished ; they come to look upon each other with more 
kindly feelings ; and the decaying sympathies of a common origin 
and a common destiny, and the same ultimate hopes and pros- 
pects beyond the grave, are revived, strengthened, and saved 
from extinction. It does not come within the author's province, 
to advert to the peculiar spiritual blessings, which flow from an 
attendance on public worship, as his aim is to treat of moral 
philosophy distinct from theology. To this last science, the 
part of Divine worship, which consists in the administration of 
the sacraments, seems exclusively to belong. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY. 



The important moral influences of the private and public 
worship of God, make the observance of Sunday a matter of 
great moment in the view of the moral philosopher. In treating 
this part of the subject, I shall, 1. Review the early history of 
the Jewish Sabbath, 2. Inquire whether the institution known 

* Proverbs xxii. 2. 



Chap. IV.] OBSERVANCE OF SUJNDAY. 87 

originally by the name of the Sabbath, and in later times, by the 
name of Sunday, was designed, save the mere change of the 
day, to be the same, and to be of perpetual obligation. 3. In- 
quire what are the duties which constitute a suitable observance 
of Sunday. 

1. It is not difficult to trace the history of the Jewish Sabbath, 
as most of it is contained in the Old and New Testaments. The 
sacred historian, after recounting the several acts of creation on 
six successive days, proceeds, — " Thus the heavens and the 
earth were finished, and all the host of them. And, on the seventh 
day, God ended his work which he had made ; and he rested on 
the seventh day from all his work which he had made. And God 
blessed the seventh day and sanctified it." # Blessing and sancti- 
fication, as applied to a day, can have no other meaning, than that 
the day was to be made instrumental in conferring blessings, and 
was to be appropriated to sacred purposes ; and the rest, ascribed 
to the Almighty, can intend no more than that he then completed 
the work of creation. 

No sooner was this glorious work accomplished, a work which 
Infinite Wisdom pronounced very good, than the Almighty Au- 
thor decreed that the seventh day, the first that had witnessed 
the fair and perfect creation, should be consecrated to his service, 
and become a peculiar source of blessings. The Sabbath was 
set apart at the creation; " it was, therefore, made for man,"f 
that is, for mankind universally, and not for the Hebrews only. 

The patriarchs led the Nomadic life, and the patriarchal histo- 
ry is very brief; — still, it is not without traces that they were 
mindful to keep the Sabbath day holy. \ The passages referred 
to, show, that the week was, with them, a well-known and familiar 
way of computing time. Again, it is said,§ that Abraham obey- 
ed the voice of the Lord, and kept his charge, his command- 
ments, his statutes, and his laws. It is not easy to believe that 
these did not include the observance of the Sabbath. The uni- 
versality of the week, can only be accounted for, from the Sab- 
bath having been set apart at the creation, and observed by the 

* Gen. ii. 1-3. t Mark ii. 27. 

t Gen. viii. 10, 12; xxix. 27-28. § Gen. xxvi. 5. 



88 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

patriarchs, from whom all the nations of the earth are descended. 
" We find from time immemorial," says the learned Goguet, 
cc the use of this period among all nations, and without any varia- 
tion in the form of it. The Israelites, Assyrians, Egyptians, In- 
dians, Arabians, and in a word, all the nations of the east, have, in 
all ages, made use of a week of seven days." * Another author of 
equal distinction says, u The period of seven days, by far the most 
permanent division of time, and the most ancient monument of 
astronomical knowledge, was used by the Brahmins in India with 
the same denominations employed by us, and was alike found in 
the calendars of the Jews, Egyptians, Arabs, and Assyrians ; it 
has survived the fall of empires, and has existed among all suc- 
cessive generations, a proof of their common origin." f 

During the long residence of the Hebrews in Egypt, in a state 
of rigorous servitude, it may well be supposed that the Sabbath 
was not much observed, and well-nigh forgotten. Still, after their 
deliverance from Egypt, the Sabbath was observed by them, 
before their arrival at Mount Sinai, and Moses evidently refers to 
it as an institution rather neglected by them, than unknown to 
them. \ In the Fourth Commandment, the term Sabbath is used 
without explanation as one well known. Moreover, when it is 
said, at the end of this commandment, that the Lord blessed the 
seventh day and hallowed it, the reference seems most manifestly 
to be to the original setting apart of the same day at the end of 
the creation. My purpose does not require me to trace the 
history of the Jewish Sabbath any further. 

2. Was the institution, known originally by the name of the 
Sabbath, and in later times by the name of Sunday, designed, 
save the mere change of the day, to be the same, and to be of 
perpetual obligation ? A brief discussion and comparison will 
set this part of the subject in a very clear light. A distinction, 
which the sacred writers have been at pains to mark and insist 
on, is drawn between the great body of the Mosaic law and the 



* Origin of Laws, Vol. I. Book 3, Chap. 2. 

t Mrs. Somerville, Mechanism of the Heavens, Prel. Dis. p. 85. — See also 
Dr. D wight on the Fourth Commandment, in his Theology, and Mr. Jay's 
" Prize Essay," pp. 10 - 13. 

\ Exodus xvi. 



Chap. IV.] OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY. 89 

ten commandments ; of which the injunction to keep the Sabbath- 
day holy, is one. This distinction is seen in the origin of the 
ten commandments, and in the manner in which they are recog- 
nised in the New Testament, as well as in their intrinsic value. 
The greater part of the Mosaic law consists of ceremonial 
observances, transitory in their nature, and manifestly designed 
to pass away ; the ten commandments make a part of fixed and 
unchangeable truth, destined to survive to the end of time, and to 
perish only when all things else shall perish. It is in vain to 
attempt to separate, as has sometimes been done,* the command- 
ment respecting the Sabbath from the other nine, promulgated, 
as it was, under like circumstances with them, and recognised by 
the same authority. 

The origin of the commandments is worthy of their impor- 
tance, in the code of eternal truth. The circumstances were of 
the most imposing kind. The Hebrews, just rescued by the arm 
of Omnipotence from an oppressive servitude, were encamped 
at the foot of Mount Sinai ; they had been led by a pillar of 
cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, and their subsistence in 
the midst of a dreary desert had been miraculous. Three days' 
notice was given by Moses, that u the Lord would come down 
in the sight of all the people upon Mount Sinai " ; and in the 
mean time, they were required specially to sanctify themselves. 
On the morning of the third day, there was a thick cloud upon 
the mountain, with thunders and lightnings ? and the Lord de- 
scended upon Mount Sinai in fire, and the smoke thereof as- 
cended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount quaked 
greatly. The majestic scene was heightened, too, by the declara- 
tion, that, if either man or beast presumed to touch the mount, 
thus sanctified by the presence of the Almighty, he should surely 
be put to death. Then, amid thunders and lightnings and smoke, 
the ten commandments were proclaimed by the voice of the 
Almighty. 

The material, moreover, on which the ten commandments 
were written, the immediate author (God himself) of the writing, 
and the means used to preserve them, were worthy of the sacred 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 262. 

12 



90 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

and sublime scene in which they originated, and serve further to 
distinguish them from the ordinary laws of the Mosaic code, 
which were communicated without any remarkable circumstances 
attending them. Moses ascended the mountain, and the ten 
commandments were delivered to him, written upon two tables of 
stone, by the finger of the Almighty. When these tables had 
been broken, the writing was renewed upon new tables by the 
same Almighty hand. For their preservation, an ark was made 
by divine direction, of immense value, * covered inside and out- 
side with gold. The lid, denominated the mercy-seat, was of 
gold, upon which were placed two golden cherubims, overshad- 
owing it with their wings. By divine command, an apartment, 
lined with gold, was set apart in the tabernacle to receive the 
ark, and was named the Holy of Holies. A similar apartment 
was appropriated to the same purpose in the temple, and of unex- 
ampled magnificence. Five hundred years after the ark was 
made, it was removed into the temple, and it then contained, as 
we are informed, nothing but the two original tables of stone ; 
and these tables probably remained four hundred years more, 
when the temple was destroyed, f 

Besides these circumstances, so manifestly distinguishing the 
ten commandments from the body of the Mosaic laws, others still 
may be noticed. Most of the Jewish laws were suited exclu- 
sively to the people to whom they were given, and are wholly 
unsuited to other nations and countries ; but every one of the ten 
commandments may be observed by every nation upon the face 
of the earth. Most of the precepts of the Mosaic code, too, are 
of a ceremonial, and not of a moral kind, — they do not pertain 
at all to morals ; but the commands of the Decalogue are directly 
conducive to the peace, purity, and happiness of all who respect 
them ; and a general obedience to several of them is indispensa- 
ble to the very existence of civil society. The tendency and 
effect, also, of the Mosaic law, was to keep the Hebrews distinct 
from all other nations, and these ten commandments were of 
course binding on them as a part of their law ; yet not one 6f 

* Prideaux says, at the expense of £4,320,000 sterling. 
f Exodus xix. 31, 32,34, 



Chap. IV.] OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY. 91 

them belonged to that system of positive precepts, which were 
designed to draw a line between them and the rest of mankind, 
nor to that system of types and shadows, which anticipated the 
coming of the Messiah. 

Moreover, into the chamber which contained the ark made to 
preserve the two tables of stone, no one but the high priest was 
permitted to enter, and he only once a year, for the purpose of 
sprinkling blood upon the mercy-seat. On the supposition, that 
the ten commandments were only an ordinary part of the Mo- 
saic law, it is not easy to understand the significancy of this rite, 
since sacrifices were offered morning and evening for the sins of 
the Jewish people. But when we consider the ten command- 
ments as constituting the moral law of Jehovah, binding upon all 
the descendants of Adam during all time, and broken by them 
all, we at once perceive, in the blood sprinkled upon the mercy- 
seat, an emphatic type of that blood, which was afterwards shed 
for the sins of the whole world. When, therefore, we consider 
that the commandments, after having been proclaimed by the 
voice of God himself, under circumstances of unparalleled awe 
and grandeur, were twice engraven by his finger upon tables of 
stone, — that these tables were, by divine command, placed in a 
costly ark, and that deposited in a magnificent chamber con- 
structed for the express purpose of receiving it, — that these 
tables were perpetually overshadowed by a miraculous emblem 
of the divine presence, — that the commandments are suited 
equally to all ages, nations, and conditions, and are preeminently 
conducive to the universal welfare of mankind ; — the conclusion 
cannot well be resisted, that they are all, (of which the command 
respecting the Sabbath is one,) of perpetual obligation, and that 
" the Sabbath was thus made for man " universally.* Let us 
see, if they are not, in like manner, recognised as of perpetual 
obligation in the New Testament. 

In his sermon on the Mount, our Saviour used this decisive 
language ; — ■ " Think not that I am come to destroy the law or 
the^prophets ; I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil. For, 
verily I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one 

* Mark ii. 27. 



92 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled. Who- 
soever, therefore, shall break one of these least commandments, 
and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the king- 
dom of heaven ; but whosoever shall do and teach them, shall 
be called great in the kingdom of heaven." * Now it can scarcely 
admit of doubt, that the law here referred to, which was to stand 
fast for ever, is the law of the ten commandments; and, if so, 
the perpetual obligation of the Sabbath is fully established. It 
is incredible, that the strong language of our Saviour was intend- 
ed to refer to the ceremonial law, called by St. Paul u the yoke 
of bondage," and in regard to the passing aivay of which, he 
exhorts Christians to " stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ 
hath made them free." f Besides, as if to show, that the law and 
commandments of which he was speaking, were distinct from the 
ceremonial law, he proceeded to assure his audience, that, unless 
their righteousness exceeded that of the Scribes and Pharisees, 
who were extremely exact in their observance of the Jewish 
ritual, (the ceremonial law,) they should in no case enter into the 
kingdom of heaven ; and it merits notice, that, throughout the 
whole sermon, our Saviour dwells on the importance of the mor- 
al virtues, and comments upon several precepts of the Decalogue, 
but in no instance touches upon the obligation of the ceremo- 
nial law. 

If we understand him, therefore, as referring to the moral 
law, every difficulty and apparent contradiction immediately van- 
ishes. Far from abolishing this law, he fulfilled it by his own 
perfect obedience ; and his assertions respecting its continued 
obligation are in entire consistency with the doctrines of his 
own inspired apostles. The law, therefore, which was to be 
perpetual, and of which not one of the least commandments 
might be violated by any man with impunity, was no other than 
the Decalogue, — that law which was uttered by the voice, and 
written by the finger of God, over which the symbol of the 
divine presence had rested for ages in the Holy of Holies. 

If this argument is supposed to need confirmation, it may be 
found by consulting those passages of the New Testament, in 

* Matt. v. 18, 19. t Gal. v. 1. 



Chap. IV.] OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY. 93 

which the ten commandments are referred to as being still in 
force.* In all these various recognitions of the continued obli- 
gation of the ten commandments under the Christian dispensa- 
tion, no intimation is given that the fourth, pertaining to the 
Sabbath, is less binding than either of the other nine. Finally, 
Christ himself vindicated the Sabbath from the traditional super- 
stition of the Pharisees, explained its nature, and showed, that, as 
it was designed for the benefit of mankind, it did not prohibit 
works of necessity and mercy. f The divine origin and perpet- 
ual obligation of the Sabbath, then, do not seem to admit of fur- 
ther question. And this conclusion, moreover, gives us to un- 
derstand why no positive command to keep the Sabbath holy, is 
found in the New Testament. Such a command would have 
been superfluous.^ 

The institution of the Sabbath consists of two parts ; — the 
rest which it enjoins on one day out of every seven, — and the 
particular day of the seven which shall be appropriated to this 
sacred rest. The former is the essential part of the institution ; 
the latter, if not incidental, is manifestly less important, cer- 
tainly not essential. The former has never been changed ; 
the latter, from commemorating the finishing of the creation, has 
been changed to the day commemorative of the resurrection of 
the Saviour, the closing scene in the work of man's redemption, 
and the pledge and earnest of our own resurrection. § 

The Sabbath was made for man universally ; — Christ de- 
clared himself to be " Lord of the Sabbath " ; that is, he claimed 
authority over the day. A change in the day is no more than 
a change in the order of the successive days ; — ■ the original day 
of the Sabbath was commemorative of the finishing of creation ; 
the Christian Sabbath (Sunday) || is commemorative of a still 

* Mark x. 19 ; Luke xviii. 20 ; Rom. xiii. 9 ; Eph. vi. 2; James ii. 10, 11. 

t See Mark ii. 23 -28 ; Luke xiii. 15 ; xiv. 5. 

t The argumentative part of this chapter is very much indebted to a Prize 
Essay, written by William Jay, Esq., and printed at Albany, in 3827. 

§ 1 Cor. xv. 12-17. 

The day specially devoted throughout Christendom to rest, devotion, and 
moral and religious improvement, is known by several names among Christians, 
— as the Lord's day (dies Dominica) , the first day of the week, the Sabbath, 
the Christian Sabbath, and Sunday. I have determined to make use of the last 
of these names, in this treatise, to designate the day, for the following reasons. 



94 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part 1. 

greater event, the consummation of the work of man's redemp- 
tion. The change in the day could not, from the nature of the 
case, be made, until the event had occurred which it was to 
commemorate. We may well conclude, moreover, that our 

1. The term Sunday is more generally used by Christians to designate the 
day than any other, and uniformity in this respect is a matter of considerable 
convenience, and therefore importance. It is used by the Roman Catholic 
Church, by the established Church of England, by the Protestant Episcopal 
Church in the United States, and by the Lutheran Church in the United 
States and in Germany. A most respectable Methodist clergyman informs 
me, that this term is most generally used by the numerous denomination 
to which he belongs. The use of the other terms prevails somewhat ex- 
tensively among Christians of other denominations among us. And yet, 
from the phrase " American Sunday School Union " in this country, which 
is chiefly under the direction of Presbyterians and Congregationalists, but is 
intended to unite all denominations in advancing its objects, and from other 
facts and circumstances known to me, I am disposed to conclude, that Sunday 
is more generally used, even by these numerous denominations, than either of 
the other terms above mentioned. It is believed, that more than three fourths 
of the entire population of the United States habitually use the term Sunday. 

2. In examining the several terms from which a choice is to be made to de- 
signate the Christian day of sacred rest, no term seems, on the whole, to be so 
appropriate as Sunday. St. John calls it " the Lord's day " (Revelation, i. 10), 
and this term is therefore very suitable and proper ; but it is not at present, if it 
ever has been, much used. The phrase, " the first day of the week," is objec- 
tionable, by reason of its inconvenient length. This reason applies, too, in 
some degree, to the use of the phrase, " the Lord's day." The term Sabbath prop- 
erly belongs to Judaism, and the tendency of using it is, to convey an erroneous 
impression, and to confound Christianity too much with Judaism. Bishop White 
says, " In the primitive church, the term ' Sabbatizing ' carried with it the re- 
proach of a leaning to the abrogated observance of the law." (Lectures on the 
Catechism, p. 65.) The phrase, " Christian Sabbath," applied by analogy to 
the day, has no advantage over the term Sunday, and is less convenient from 
its length. 

3. It can be no just objection to the term Sunday, that it is of heathen origin, 
as long, at least, as we continue to instruct our children in the classical (heath- 
en) writers of antiquity. " The early Christians," says Bishop White again, 
"conformed to the custom of their heathen neighbours, in the calling of the 
days and the months." (Ibid.) In truth, it began to be used very early by the 
primitive Christians. Justin Martyr, who lived at the close of the first and the 
beginning of the second century, says, " On the day called Sunday, is an as- 
sembly of all who live in the city or country, and the memoirs of the apostles 
and the writings of the prophets are read. (Sermons on the Lord's Day, by 
Daniel Wilson. London, 1831. p. 110.) 

The term Sunday, then, has the considerable advantage of uniformity j it 
conveys no erroneous impression ; it is easily pronounced ; no just objection 
can be urged against its use ; and it has the sanction of primitive Christian 
antiquity. 



Chap. IV.] OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY. 95 

Lord, during the interval between his resurrection and ascension, 
instructed his apostles to make this change, and he certainly sanc- 
tioned it by meeting with his disciples on two successive Sun- 
days, and absenting himself during the intervening week ; and 
again in the visible descent of the Holy Spirit on the same sa- 
cred day. 

3. The duties which constitute a suitable observance of Sunday. 
Before proceeding to the particulars of which this branch of the 
subject consists, it may be well to observe, that from the fact of 
the institution being derived through Judaism, and made, by its 
perpetual obligation, a part of Christianity, it does not result, 
that the penalties attached by the Hebrews to the violation of it 
are continued along with it. The penalties inflicted by the Mo- 
saic law are not a part of the institution; they were only the 
means of enforcing its observance ordained by Moses, and are 
a part of the local policy which was discontinued at the advent 
of the Messiah.* 

It is observable, too, that no penalty is attached (in the Deca- 
logue) to the violation of any one of the ten commandments ; 
they are universally binding on the consciences of nations and 
individuals, but each nation is left to compel their observance by 
such penalties as it may deem fit, or by none at all. We of the 
present day, are no more required to punish a violation of Sun- 
day by death, as did the Hebrews, than we are, like them, to 
punish imprecations on parents with the same penalty. f Respect 
for parents and the observance of Sunday are alike binding on 
the consciences of all men ; but our tribunals of justice do not 
punish disobedience to parents, and our municipal laws enforcing 
the observance (in twenty-three of our States) of Sunday have 
fallen into very general neglect. If any specific penal sanctions 
had been made a part of the ten commandments, they must have 
been unfitted, by that circumstance, to be the supreme moral law, 
claiming the obedience of all men through all time ; because 
such penalties, though they might have been very suitable to the 
circumstances of one nation, might also have been very unsuit- 
able to those of another. Neither are all the duties of the 



* Exod. xxxi. 14, 15. t Lev. xx. 9; Deut. xxvii. 16. 



96 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part 1. 

Hebrew Sabbath transferred to the Christian Sunday.* With 
these few explanatory remarks I proceed. 

(1.) The first and most obvious duty appropriate to Sunday 
is a cessation from labor. This is a part of the fourth command- 
ment, is of perpetual obligation, and has no connexion with the 
local and temporary Hebrew policy. The Sunday is a great 
and precious privilege. By this institution, those who labor with 
their hands are rescued from the severities and hardships of 
unremitting toil ; — and those whose labor is chiefly of the under- 
standing find in it a season of refreshment and renovation of 
strength and energy, of which they stand in equal need with those 
whose labor is performed by the hands. 

Works of necessity and mercy, however, and the labor of 
attending and performing divine service, are recognised by the 
Saviour himself as suitable to the Jewish Sabbath, f and they are 
equally so to the Christian Sunday. The relief of Sunday to 
the laboring classes of mankind contributes greatly to the com- 
fort and happiness of their lives, both as it refreshes them for 
the time, and as it lightens their six days' labor, by the prospect 
of a day of rest always before them. This could not be said of 
casual indulgences of leisure and rest, even if they occurred more 
frequently than Sunday. It is matter of experience, also, that 
days of relaxation which occur seldom and unexpectedly, being 
unprovided when they do come, with any duty or employment, 
and the manner of spending them being regulated by no public 
standard of propriety and established usage, they are usually con- 
sumed in sloth, or in rude, perhaps criminal diversions, or, still 
worse, in scenes of riot and intemperance. The Sunday is a 
day of rest and refreshment to the body and to the mind, but not 
a day of sloth and indulgence. The remark, moreover, must 
not be omitted, that it gives a day of rest and refreshment to the 
laboring animals, as well as to laboring man. Thus "the Lord 
is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all the works of 
his hands."| 

(2.) But the Sunday includes much more than cessation from 



s 



Levit. xxiii. 8, 42, &c. t Mark ii. 23 -28 ; Mat. xii. 1 - 14. 

t Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 253. 



Chap. IV.] OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY. 97 

labor, and rest, and refreshment of the body and mind. We are 
required to keep it holy, that is, to set it apart from a common to 
a special and sacred use. This requires the appropriation of it to 
an attendance on public worship, and includes the more general 
duty, of employing it in every suitable way, for the purpose of 
moral and religious improvement. Religious assemblies under 
the name of " holy convocations," * were accustomed to be held 
on the Hebrew Sabbath ; and we have full evidence, that a com- 
pliance with the same custom was considered a personal and 
universal duty on the Christian Sunday from the beginning, f 
Besides attendance on public worship, reading, meditation, pri- 
vate prayer, the instruction of children and servants, are the 
appropriate and important duties of Sunday. The latter class of 
persons, especially, must be instructed on this day, or they will, 
too probably, receive no instruction at all. 

(3.) The appropriation of a part of the Sunday to the elemen- 
tary moral and religious instruction of children, especially poor 
children, and of adults who stand in need of such instruction, 
and are willing to receive it, may justly be regarded as one of 
the greatest moral improvements of modern times. In Sunday 
schools, — those humble seminaries of charitable education, — 
many hundreds of thousands of children are nurtured in the ways 
of righteousness, not a few of whom would otherwise have been 
brought up in neglect, irreligion, and probably crime. These 
nurseries of education, morals, and piety are founded on the 
principle recommended by Solomon and sanctioned by all ex- 
perience, — of training up the child in the way he should go, that, 
when he is old, he may not depart from it. The experience of 
all times demonstrates, that the character of the man is built on 
the principles instilled into the mind of the child. In further- 
ance of the original plan, too, the conductors of Sunday schools, 
in this country, have very extensively instituted libraries of choice 
books for the instruction of the young under their charge ; and 
they meditate no less an enterprise, than the elementary moral 
and religious education of the entire youthful population of the 

* Exod. xii. 16; Levit. xxiii. 7, &c. 

1 Heb. x. 25 ; John xx, 19, 26; Acts xx ; 6,7 , 1 Cor. xvL I, 2; Rev, i. 10 

13 



98 OUR RELATION TO THE DEITY. [Part I. 

United States, and the furnishing them universally, by libraries, 
with facilities for reading, both on Sundays and other days, of 
the most useful and attractive kind. The philanthropic mind is 
filled with admiration when contemplating an enterprise so bene- 
ficial and comprehensive. Besides, the good effect of Sunday 
school instruction extends not only to the scholars actually 
taught, but to the teachers, the parents, and even the ministers 
and congregations in which they are organized and properly sus- 
tained. In this way, by thus vastly augmenting the usefulness of 
the day, a new and before unknown value has been given to the 
institution of Sunday itself. 



PART SECOND. 

OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY, AND THE MOR- 
AL DUTIES THENCE ARISING ; THAT IS, THE 
DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 

It has sometimes been said, that u a Christian is of no coun- 
try," that he ought to esteem all countries alike, and to have no 
attachment to one country more than to another ; * but this sen- 
timent will not bear examination when submitted to the test of 
Scripture, any more than when brought to the bar of reason. 
The Hebrew Scriptures abound with the most enthusiastic and 
even exclusive sentiments of attachment, on the part of the au- 
thors, for their native land, f In the New Testament, this enthu- 
siasm and exclusiveness of attachment to country are not seen ; 
still the sentiment and the duty of patriotism are fully recognised. 
Our Saviour instructed his disciples to render unto Caesar all 
things which Caesar might rightfully claim ; J that is, he instructed 
them to comply with all the lawful ordinances of civil govern- 
ment. While predicting the destruction of Jerusalem for its sins, 
he still accompanied his prediction with the most pathetic lamen- 
tations. § The benefits of his personal ministry, too, were con- 
fined to his own countrymen, || and those, who were commission- 
ed to preach his Gospel, were enjoined to make it known first 
to the Jews and then to the Gentiles. IF St. Paul was especially 
commissioned to preach the Gospel to the Gentiles ; still he 
recognises his obligation to make it known first of all to his 
countrymen. ** We are instructed u to make supplications, 
prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings for kings, and all that 
are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all 

* Soame Jenyns' Internal Evidences of Christianity, prop. 3. 

t Psalm cxxxvii. 5-7. $ Mark xii. 13-17. § Mat. xxiii. 37. 

|| Mat. xv. 24. IT Mat. x. 5, 6. ** Rom. i. 13 - 16. 



100 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY [Part II. 

godliness and honesty." This implies a cheerful and cordial 
submission to the government under which we live, as distinct 
from that of any other country. The truth is, Christianity 
adapts itself to human institutions and to the relations of human 
life as it finds them, and seeks to meliorate and improve all of 
them, f 

Christianity has made obedience to civil government impera- 
tively binding on the conscience, and there is no duty in regard 
to which it speaks in more decisive terms. u Submit yourselves 
to every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake ; whether it be to 
the king, as supreme ; or unto governors, as unto them that are 
sent by him for the punishment of evil-doers, and for the praise 
of them that do well. For so is the will of God, that with well- 
doing ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men ; as 
free and not using your liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, but 
as the servants of God. "J In Romans xiii. 1-7, St. Paul 
enjoins obedience in terms yet more imperative. Still, au- 
thoritatively as these passages speak, they do not inculcate the 
unlimited obedience, much less the servile spirit, which has 
sometimes been ascribed to them. § They make civil obedi- 
ence a branch of Christian duty, instead of a mere submission to 
superior force. The doctrine contained in them is applicable 
both to individuals and to associations of individuals, combined 
to accomplish any particular object. Every individual owes 
prompt and cheerful obedience to the lawful authority of his 
country. But he ow T es no obedience to civil government, in 
any instance in which the consequence must be a violation of 
his duty to God. Nor does he owe compliance in any instance 
or degree, in which authority has not been given to the magis- 
trate, by the State, to require it. These limitations require no 
illustration. 

But there is a great difference between an individual refusing 
to comply with an ordinance of government, and an association 
of individuals united to overthrow the existing government of a 

* 1 Tim. ii. 1, 2. t See Gisborne's Inquiry, Vol. I. p. 109-124. 

t 1 Pet. ii. 13- 16. 

§ See "The American Review," for 1811, Vol. I. p. 336. 



Part II] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 101 

country by a revolution, and to establish another. It is in conse- 
quence of the overwhelming evils of anarchy and revolution, that 
the duty of civil obedience has been prescribed in so strong 
language. Still no attempt is made to fix limits to an obe- 
dience, to which, from the nature of the case, no well marked 
limits can be assigned. All Christian duties are treated alike, 
in this respect, in the New Testament. Thus the duty of 
husbands and wives, of parents and children, of masters and 
servants, are all prescribed, but no attempt is made to assign 
the exact limits of these duties. 

The right of revolution, or making forcible resistance to civil 
government, cannot be ascertained by any precise boundaries ; — 
it commences at the point where civil obedience ceases to be a 
virtue. What this point is, those w r ho undertake a revolution 
must of necessity judge for themselves, upon a view of all the 
circumstances and under the weight of the most solemn respon- 
sibility to God, their country, and mankind. In undertaking to 
make forcible resistance to government, u the end should be 
seen from the beginning ;" and to bear present evils while they 
are tolerable, is preferable to rushing into a revolution, where the 
evils are certain and very great, and the good in prospect must 
always be, in a considerable degree, problematical. 

u The speculative line of demarcation, where obedience 
ought to end, and resistance must begin, is," says Mr. Burke, 
" faint, obscure, and not easily definable. It is not a single act, 
or a single event, which determines it. Governments must be 
abused and deranged, indeed, before it can be thought of; and 
the prospect of the future must be as bad as the experience of 
the past. When things are in that lamentable condition, the 
nature of the disease is to indicate the remedy, to those whom 
nature has qualified to administer, in extremities, this critical, 
ambiguous, bitter potion, to a distempered state. Times, and 
occasions, and provocations will teach their own lessons. The 
wise will determine from the gravity of the case, — the irritable, 
from sensibility to oppression, — the high-minded, from disdain 
and indignation at abused power in unworthy hands, — the brave 
and bold, from the love of honorable danger, in a generous 



102 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY, [Part II. 

cause ; — but, with or without right, a revolution will be the 
very last resource of the thinking and the good." * 

Our Declaration of Independence has marked the right and 
duty of resistance with as much definiteness as seems practi- 
cable. " Prudence will dictate," it says, " that governments long 
established should not be changed for light and transient causes ; 
but, when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing inva- 
riably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them (a 
people) under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their 
duty to throw off such government and to provide new guards 
for their future security." Is it not one of the characteristics 
of the present day, to rush into revolutions with too little regard 
to the circumstances and consequences ? f 

The duties of patriotism may be ranged under seven divis- 
ions. I. The moral duties of rulers of every grade. II. Du- 
ties of citizens or subjects towards the civil magistrate. III. The 
duty of exercising the elective franchise with integrity and dis- 
cretion. IV. The duty of cultivating a patriotic spirit and the 
patriotic virtues. V. The duty of citizens to keep themselves 
well informed respecting public men and public measures. 
VI. The duty of aiding in the defence of the country, and in 
the administration of justice by serving on juries, giving testi- 
mony on oath, &c. VII. Moral duties of the United States, 
viewed as communities, towards each other. 



CHAPTER I. 

MORAL DUTIES OF RULERS OF EVERY GRADE. 

It is not within the province of ethics, to discuss the consti- 
tutional, legal, or other official duties of public officers of any par- 
ticular grade ; and, in doing so, the author would be going out of 
his way ; but the moral duties of them all are so similar, that they 

* Burke's Works, Vol. V. p. 73. London, 1803. 
t Gisborne's Inquiry, Vol. I. p. 77 - 83, 97, 107. 



Chap. I.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 103 

may be treated under the same division. Nor is it within the 
author's province to do more than advert to the personal qualifi- 
cations, physical, intellectual, or moral, which the various public 
officers may rightfully be expected to bring to the discharge of 
the duties of their respective offices. His concern is with their 
special moral duties, arising from the stations which they fill. 
The public officers particlarly referred to, comprise the Presi- 
dent of the United States, and the chief executive officers by 
whom he is aided in the discharge of his high duties, the mem- 
bers of both houses of Congress, the governors of the several 
states and territories, the members of the state and territorial 
legislatures, the judges of the national and state courts, the offi- 
cers of the army and navy of the United States, and of the 
militia of the several states. All these various officers make up 
a mighty host ; and, however different may be the spheres of their 
official duty, still they all occupy a common ground and sustain 
a common relation to their country, from which spring moral 
duties of the most important kind. Their power of influencing 
the public happiness is great, in proportion as their stations are 
elevated ; and their influence for good or for evil is felt through 
all the ramifications of society. 

The greatest evil by which a free government is beset and 
endangered is, the excessive prevalence and extreme virulence 
of faction and party spirit. This source of public danger is 
great and threatening in proportion to the freedom of the govern- 
ment of a country and the consequent fewness of the restraints 
of law. Faction and party spirit have, in truth, been the bane 
of all free governments. No one can read of the intrigues, 
machinations, and exterminating violence of faction in the repub- 
lics of ancient Greece, each party, as it gained the ascendency, 
alternately wreaking its vengeance on the other, without being 
filled with aversion and disgust. The history of the Roman 
commonwealth and of the Italian republics of the middle ages, 
are too well fraught with instruction of the same melancholy kind. 

But we need not go back to ancient times, to be instructed in 
the evils of faction and party violence. The sanguinary scenes 
of the French Revolution, originating in, and consummated by, 
the madness of party and faction, have furnished a lesson to all 



104 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

mankind which ought never to be forgotten in all future time. 
We ourselves have tasted enough of the bitterness of party strife, 
to make us, if we are wise, patient under the voice of warning 
and admonition. The characteristics, as well as the evils, of par- 
ty are substantially the same at all times. 

In transacting the business of life, it is constantly the duty of 
one man to cooperate with, and concur in promoting, the meas- 
ures of another, on the ground of an entire or substantial con- 
currence of judgment ; but much more than this is required of 
the man who enlists under the banners of partisanship. The 
well-trained partisan must not permit himself to be embarrassed 
by the trammels either of judgment or conscience. He must 
not hesitate to affirm what he knows to be false, — to deny what 
he knows to be true, — to approve what he is convinced is un- 
wise, — and to encourage what he deems reprehensible. To 
countenance thorough-going party spirit, is to justify and sanction 
all this, — yea more, much more ; — it is to encourage factious 
orators, bold declaimers, needy and profligate adventurers, to 
join in combinations for the purpose of obtruding themselves 
into all the offices of government, and, under the name and garb 
of servants of the people, to impose on them chains too strong 
to be broken. It is to exclude men from employments, not 
because their characters are impeachable or doubtful ; not be- 
cause their talents are inadequate or unknown ; but because they 
were born in a particular part of the country, are suspected of 
preferring measures to men, of an attachment to reason and the 
public good, rather than to party watchwords and appellations, 
and hesitate to promise implicit allegiance to the chief, and obe- 
dience to every order of the reigning political confederacy. 

These, as has before been said, are not the characteristics of 
any particular party, but of all party when uncurbed by moral 
principle ; and will be displayed in stronger or fainter colors, ac- 
cording to the genius of the leaders and the circumstances of 
the times. Their prevalence at any period, not only puts at 
hazard the final welfare of the country, by dividing it into two 
conflicting parts ; by perpetuating feuds, jealousies, and animos- 
ities ; by threatening the annihilation of patriotism and public 



Chap. I.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 105 

spirit ; but tends continually to obscure the dignity, and destroy 
the authority, of government itself. 

When the chief magistrate of a nation permits this blighting 
spirit to enter into the policy of his administration, much more 
when he is himself instrumental in introducing it, when partisan- 
ship alone is rewarded and merit discouraged, he flagrantly be- 
trays the high trust with which the confidence of the nation has 
invested him. On the other hand, when, rejecting all distinc- 
tions not originating in personal merit, he is willing to confer the 
honors and emoluments of the State upon any of the citizens 
possessed of virtues and talents capable of advancing its welfare ; 
it is difficult to say, whether he secures, so far as an upright line 
of conduct can secure, more substantial advantages to his coun- 
try, or more satisfaction, honor, and influence to himself. Roused 
by his impartial call, public spirit revives in the remotest extrem- 
ities of the land, prompting every class of citizens to whatever 
exertions the general good may require. 

After these observations, it is not difficult to understand, that 
it is one of the highest moral duties of men invested with pub- 
lic office, to guard themselves against the fatal venom of party 
virulence, and, by discountenancing it in all over whom they have 
any influence, to prevent it from infecting and desolating the 
land. The demon of party is usually raised by the wand of a 
very few ambitious individuals in a community ; and this, too, 
with a view to their personal aggrandizement. How many, also, 
have succeeded in raising this fierce demon from the shades, who 
have not been equally successful in conjuring it down at their 
bidding. Let the public man of whatever grade meet the spirit 
of faction with a resolute sense of duty, — let no excitement of 
passion, however craving for indulgence, let no temptation of im- 
mediate interest, or alluring advantage in prospect, — no desire 
of humbling a rival, supplanting a competitor, or crushing an 
adversary, prevail on him to lend himself to the intrigues of fac- 
tion and the clamor of party violence. The sword of party, 
moreover, has more than a single edge ; and many a man has, in 
the end, been cleft asunder by it in the midst, who has for a time 
wielded it successfully. Situated as we are in this country, it 
must ever be the fault of a very few men, clothed with high 
14 



106 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

public confidence, if the country is distracted, and its prospects 
blighted, by the violence of faction and party. 

The position in society, occupied by legislators and magistrates 
invested with the higher functions of government, gives them 
facilities, possessed by no other class of their countrymen, for 
advancing the great interests of knowledge, good morals, educa- 
tion, religion, and general humanity in their country, and even 
in foreign countries. These facilities, capacities, and opportuni- 
ties of usefulness, furnished by the official situations with which 
the confidence of their country has clothed them, are a great 
moral trust, for the rightful and beneficial administration of which 
they are responsible. It is to no purpose to say, that these du- 
ties are indefinite in their nature, and prescribed by no statute or 
other written law. This is true, but the law of the land attempts 
to prescribe only a very small part of our moral duties ; and we 
cannot omit to use beneficially any of the facilities we may en- 
joy, of doing good, without incurring the guilt of opportunities 
neglected and capacities of usefulness unemployed. There are 
sins of omission as well as of commission, — perhaps they are 
not much less numerous or less aggravated ; and the principle is 
unquestionably recognised and sanctioned by Christianity, that 
every man is responsible for the beneficial use of whatever facili- 
ties, capacities, and opportunities of usefulness he may enjoy.* 

The talents, which we are forbidden to let remain unprofitable 
in our hands, are our time, our wealth, our knowledge, our 
health, our influence, either personal or official, and whatever 
other powers, faculties, or opportunities were originally given us 
by the Almighty, or whatever he has permitted and enabled us to 
acquire, which can be turned to his glory, our own benefit, or 
the welfare of mankind. It is impossible for me to give even a 
general view of the facilities for doing good, furnished by the 
various and multiplied official situations which exist in this coun- 
try, much less to enter into their details. They can scarcely 
fail to occur to any one, who is willing to avail himself of his 
official situation to make himself as useful as possible ; and, if 
brought to the notice of men of an opposite spirit, it could do 

* Matt. xxv. 14-30; Luke xix. 12-17; Rom. xiv. 7,8. 



Chap. I.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 107 

no good. It is chiefly the spirit by which a man is influenced, 
that makes him useful or otherwise. Our legislators, besides 
procuring the repeal of laws having an evil tendency, are fur- 
nished with all the extensive means of official usefulness within 
the reach of legislative enactment and supervision. Knowledge, 
education, good morals, and religion depend very considerably 
for their advancement on legislative action. 

It is made the constitutional duty of the President of the 
United States, and of the governors of the several States, to 
give information to the national and state legislatures of the con- 
dition and prospects of the country within their respective juris- 
dictions, to recommend measures for the suppression of evils, 
the reformation of abuses, and the amelioration of the existing 
state of things generally. These documents are communicated 
annually, sometimes oftener ; legislation usually takes its tone 
from what they contain ; and the number and character of the 
subjects introduced into them depend entirely on executive dis- 
cretion. What enviable facilities for doing good, do not these 
documents furnish to the patriot statesman ? These instruments 
have not often contained any thing injurious to the great moral 
interests of the community ; — and, if we have sometimes had 
just occasion to complain of their having too little bearing on 
these all-important interests, still it is but justice to admit, that 
their distinguished authors have availed themselves in a very com- 
mendable degree of their high official situations, to advance edu- 
cation, science, morals, and Christianity. 

Several of our state executives have taken a most praise- 
worthy stand in favor of literary, moral, and religious education, 
of associations for the advancement of science, and against gam- 
ing, lotteries, intemperance in drinking, and other nuisances of 
the moral kind. The navy of the United States, under instruc- 
tions from the President, has sometimes, on its excursions to 
distant quarters of the world, been employed to obtain valuable 
information, to be turned to useful purposes at home. The offi- 
cers of the army, too, scattered as they are through the Union 
and its territories, have sometimes been instructed to make them- 
selves useful to their countrymen in the same way. Our foreign 
ministers and consuls, moreover, have occasionally employed 



108 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

their leisure and peculiar facilities to the same end. While we 
may express gratification, that so much has been accomplished, 
it is still to be regretted, that the rare and very peculiar oppor- 
tunities of this kind, which have been perpetually occuring during 
the last half-century, have not been yet more productive of good. 
Objects of this kind are worthy of the careful attention and 
patriotic regard of all, who occupy stations of high official trust 
and responsibility. 

But a moral duty of still higher importance, and specially ap- 
pertaining to those who are invested with high public functions, 
consists in their private influence, and the personal example which 
they set from day to day, in their intercourse with the private 
citizens. The dignity of the office, by an easy transition, passes 
over to him who fills it ; and there is a natural propensity in the 
human mind to adopt the sentiments and imitate the conduct of 
those who are invested with authority. The example of the 
rulers of a country, like the impulse of a stone on the yielding 
surface of a lake, diffuses their influence around in concentric 
and gradually enlarging circles, to an extent which the eye can 
neither trace nor limit. The power which they possess of 
checking or accelerating the progress of extravagance, luxury, 
and vice, and of encouraging or discountenancing useful plans 
and institutions for the advancement of morals, the improvement 
of the people, and the increase of industry, by their personal 
aid, and still more by the general credit and esteem which their 
encouragement will afford, is not confined to those who are eye- 
witnesses of their daily life and conversation. Their exam- 
ple diffuses its effects not merely among those who are admitted 
to their tables and their society, but is propagated from one knot 
of imitators to another, until it spreads its influence through the 
country far and wide, and reaches and affects its most obscure 
corners. It is true, that the law is supreme in our system, and 
that it is so, is the chief glory of our institutions ; — still, not- 
withstanding this, enough of influence will always remain to those 
who are charged with the administration of the law, to render 
their sentiments, and more especially their example, highly inju- 
rious or beneficial to the community. The evil example of a 
very few men in high situations, may deluge an entire country 



€hap. I.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM 109 

with infidelity and licentiousness. How often has it occurred in 
the history of the world, that the licentious principles and open 
immoralities of a profligate court have infected an entire nation 
with the virulence of their poison ? The profligate Charles the 
Second, of Great Britain, infected every rank and order of socie- 
ty in the kingdom, with the moral poison which his sentiments 
and example infused. 

There is at least one vice, which official persons, if they could 
be brought to combine their influence, might bring into such dis- 
repute, as to expel it from society. I refer to duelling, which 
depends entirely for its reputation on the countenance given it 
by the distinguished and the influential. The good example of 
the same class of men in respect to gaming, intemperance in 
drinking, luxury, and extravagance of every kind, if less com- 
pletely successful, still could not fail to be highly effective and 
salutary. The opposite example descends from them to men in 
more humble circumstances of life, until, like a flood, it desolates 
every village and neighbourhood with the overwhelming mischief 
and ruin which march in its train. In the most elective gov- 
ernment, not all offices are elective, many are rilled by appoint- 
ment ; and it is among the most solemn of the responsibilities of 
those who hold the appointing power, to select, for official trust, 
those among the citizens, who are most distinguished for industry, 
for understanding, for public spirit and for integrity, as well as to 
fill each department of the public service with men whose talents 
are best suited to its peculiar business, and to unite in each 
public officer, in the greatest practicable measure, purity of pri- 
vate morals with the lustre of official talents.* 



* See Gisborne's Inquiry, Vol. I. p. 58, &c. 



110 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II 



CHAPTER II. 

DUTIES OF THE CITIZENS TOWARDS THE CIVIL MAGISTRATE. 

Next to the moral duties of civil governors and magistrates 
arising from their official situation, come those which are due 
from the citizens towards those who are invested with any degree 
of official trust. That the New Testament ranks this among the 
most important of Christian duties, may be fairly inferred from 
the strong language which it is accustomed to employ. We are 
not only " to fear God, but to honor the king" ; * which term is 
here used to represent civil government and magistracy of every 
kind. Again, St. Peter says, f " Submit yourselves, for the 
Lord's sake, to every ordinance of man ; " that is, to every 
person whom men have invested with any degree of lawful au- 
thority over you, — " whether it be to the king, as supreme, or 
unto governors," that is, all subordinate magistrates, "as unto 
them that are sent by him for the punishment of evil-doers, and 
the praise of them that do well." 

They who are thus ordained by men to perform the func- 
tions of governors, are to be obeyed for conscience'' sake; and 
are, therefore, said by St. Paul " to be ordained of God." 
" There is no power but of God," continues he ; every form 
of lawful government and magistracy is sanctioned by the Al- 
mighty. " The powers that be are ordained of God," — even 
the idolatrous and persecuting Roman government had authority 
from God to exact obedience from those to whom St. Paul 
wrote ; whence he infers, that "whosoever resisteth the power," 
whoever refuses just obedience to his lawful rulers, " resisteth 
the ordinance of God, and they that resist shall receive to them- 
selves condemnation." After some further pertinent instructions, 
he concludes with this comprehensive admonition, — "Render 
therefore to all," i. e. to each magistrate in his proper depart- 

* 1 Peter ii. 17. t 1 Peter ii. 13. 



Chap. II.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. Ill 

merit, " their dues ; tribute to whom tribute is due ; custom to 
whom custom ; fear to whom fear ; honor to whom honor." * 

Civil governors have an arduous, responsible, and burthensome 
duty to perform ; the public interest and safety are committed to 
their hands ; and every good citizen must feel a special interest in 
them, and in the successful administration of their trust. To this 
end, they are entitled, from the citizens, to a fair, candid, and 
even favorable construction and representation of their senti- 
ments, personal conduct, and official measures. They are the 
agents to whom the entire body of the citizens stand in the rela- 
tion of principal ; and a willingness to misrepresent and embarrass 
their measures is a willingness to misrepresent and embarrass 
those, who have been commissioned to act for their benefit, in 
a situation in which they cannot act for themselves. 

Even in cases, where their conduct and their measures are of 
doubtful character and tendency, they are entitled to have the 
doubt given in their favor. To assail them with indiscriminate 
abuse, with virulent invective and bitter denunciation, except for 
unquestionable reasons, is most unjust, unpatriotic, and reprehen- 
sible. St. Peter refers, in strong terms of disapproval, to those 
" who despise government and are not afraid to speak evil of dig- 
nities."! Again, " Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy 
people." | Such indiscriminate abuse and undeserved crimination 
of civil governors is attended with manifold evils ; it is proper, 
therefore, to bring it to the test of the consequences, as well as to 
the standard of Scripture. § It renders them less sensible, if not 
indeed completely insensible, to the salutary influence of public 
opinion, when they find themselves fiercely denounced, by per- 
haps a considerable portion of the citizens, after using their best 
endeavours to advance the public good. In truth, the natural 
and almost inevitable effect of faction and unprincipled party 
spirit is to destroy the force of public opinion, with all its mani- 
fold advantages, even upon men of the most upright mind. To 
a tone of censure and denunciation, which knows not how, and 
does not care, to discriminate, but is only anxious to accuse 
and misrepresent, rulers soon come to pay no regard. 

* Romans xiii. 1-7. t 2 Peter ii. 10; Jude 8. 

t Acts xxiii. 5 ; Exodus xxii. 28. § See pp. 33 - 37. 



112 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

Besides, when the loud notes of censure and denunciation come 
from one side ; the other side is, in a measure, compelled to 
meet this indiscriminate abuse and invective, not only with de- 
fensive weapons of like temper, but also with like indiscriminate 
justification and eulogy of men and measures ; until, at length, 
present effect, and not truth, is the object universally aimed at by 
those who take an active part and interest in political transac- 
tions. Truth, candor, justice, fairness, and even kindness and 
courtesy, are gradually lost sight of ; and abuse, calumny, misrep- 
resentation, denunciation, unmeasured impudence, and falsehood, 
become the settled order of things in politics, — naturally the 
most dignified, practical, and useful of all the moral sciences, and 
the most directly pertaining to human welfare and happiness. 

But, besides putting a fair and equitable construction on the 
sentiments and measures of rulers, it is the duty of the citizens 
to give them a fair and reasonable active support, until their 
conduct has been such as justly to forfeit a liberal confidence. 
But power is encroaching in its nature ; it therefore becomes the 
citizens to be watchful of the tendency of measures and events, 
and the conduct of rulers may u»questionably be such as justly 
to forfeit public confidence and support. But, until the proofs 
of maladministration become full and distinct, we cannot right- 
fully refuse to sustain them. 

Even when an administration comes into office against our 
wishes and endeavours, and consequently without our confidence, 
it is still our duty to abstain from prejudging them ; — they are 
still entitled to be judged by their measures, to be tried by 
their own merits. We are to act for the good of our country, 
and not from passion, prejudice, or personal pique. No adminis- 
tration of government, however wise and upright, can be re- 
spectable and useful, much less successful, unless it be well sus- 
tained ; and an administration which, if suitably sustained, might 
have conducted the affairs of the country successfully, may, for 
want of such sustaining aid, signally fail, to the lasting injury, 
possibly to the ruin, of the country. The effects of such a result 
must be felt by the private citizens, as well as by the adminis- 
tration, which they have so disastrously opposed, or failed to 
sustain. No one will say, that, in such a state of things, the 



Chap. II.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 113 

administration alone is the guilty party. They had a right to 
expect a fair and reasonable support from their constituents, and 
if this has not been given them, their responsibility is, to say the 
least, greatly diminished. 

Such are the moral duties of private citizens towards their 
rulers, whether hereditary or elective, — but it is, if any thing, 
still more imperative on civil rulers and magistrates, as far as con- 
sists with reason and conscience, to aid and sustain each other. 
The opposition, then, are morally bound to render satisfactory 
reasons at the bar of their consciences and of their country, why 
they are found opposing an administration to whose hands the 
interests of the country have been intrusted. The presumption, 
in such a case, is certainly against them, and they must remove 
this presumption by fact and argument ; — otherwise their course 
is morally unjustifiable, factious motives may be justly imputed 
to them, and it is not too harsh to call them an unprincipled 
faction. 

But, suppose a number of individuals to be conscientious in 
their opposition, as assuredly they may be and often have been, 
by what standard are they to measure their duty to their coun- 
try ? It is not difficult to discover the moral rule which applies 
to this contingency. An opposition may use all measures jus- 
tifiable in themselves, to bring back an unwise or wicked admin- 
istration to the path of right and duty ; but they must never lose 
sight of the honor and interests of their common country, — 
much less may they do or omit any thing to the injury of the coun- 
try for the sake of overthrowing the administration to which they 
are opposed. This line of distinction between a factious and 
a principled opposition is reasonably definite ; so much so, that, 
guided by it, good men will not vary much from each other in 
their course. 

But it is precisely here, in applying this rule, that the most 
exact knowledge, mature judgment, perfect command of temper, 
freedom from prejudice, fixedness of principles, and unwavering 
sense of rectitude and duty, are wanted to insure an upright 
and patriotic course of conduct. There have been statesmen, 
who claimed to be patriots of u the first water" ; to all appear- 
15 



114 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

ance, willing to ruin their country, provided they could ruin the 
existing administration.*- Such conduct cannot well be deemed 
too reprehensible. And in every free country, where party 
spirit must always be expected, and, within reasonable limits, 
is even desirable, the limits beyond which party warfare may not 
be rightfully waged, and the moral restraints through which it 
cannot rightfully break, should be well and distinctly understood 
by all ranks of people. 

" I consider the first duty of every branch of the government," 
says Mr. John Quincy Adams, late President of the United 
States, " is, to harmonize with every other branch in the transac- 
tion of the business of the people ; that the first duty of every 
member of the House of Representatives is, to support the 
President of the United States, to support the executive gov- 
ernment of the country in every measure belonging properly to 
its high office, in every measure in which the judgment of the 
individual acting can support the proceedings of the executive. 
In like manner, it is equally his duty to support the measures, 
which pass in the other branch of the legislature ; — this duty is 
reciprocally obligatory upon the Senate and the House of Rep- 
resentatives. This I have always considered, as the first duty 
of every person concerned in the administration of the govern- 
ment, whether in the legislative or executive branches. There is 
another subsequent duty," continues he, " by which each of these 
three branches is made a guardian and sentinel over the acts of 
the other, and in which it may be their duty, (and a painful one 
it must be at all times,) to oppose any measure, be it of the 
executive or the other branches of the legislature, which they 
may think inconsistent with the constitution, or with the inter- 
ests of the people. Harmony between the two branches of the 
legislature is of extreme importance, — harmony between the 
legislative branches and the executive is scarcely less impor- 
tant." f These sentiments of this distinguished statesman are 
very apposite to the purpose of the latter part of this chapter, 
and amply confirm my observations and arguments. 

* Sparks's Life of Gouverneur Morris, Vol. III. p. 291-294. 
t Speech in the House of Representatives of the United States, January 22d, 
1836. 



Chap. III.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 115 



CHAPTER III. 

THE DUTY OF THE CITIZEN IN REGARD TO THE EXERCISE OF 
THE ELECTIVE FRANCHISE. 

It is the duty of the citizen to exercise the elective franchise 
with integrity and discretion. This franchise is exercised with 
integrity, when the citizen discharges the duty of voting accord- 
ing to his honest convictions ; — it is exercised with discretion, 
when these convictions are the result of a mature judgment and 
an enlightened conscience. But the subject admits and requires 
further illustration ; and, in illustrating it, my remarks will apply 
specially to the election of members of our national and state 
legislatures ; but, with very slight modifications, they will apply 
to all elections whatever. 

The elective franchise is rightly regarded as a public trust 
reposed in the citizen, requiring for its suitable discharge, cer- 
tain qualifications of sex, age, knowledge, and character, and 
sometimes complexion. Generally, too, some estate has been 
required as a qualification. All wise constitutions of govern- 
ment, ancient and modern, have withheld the elective franchise 
from woman, by reason of the manifest inconsistency between 
her physical constitution and peculiar sphere of duty, and the 
exercise of any political privilege, or the administration of any 
political trust.* Most of the constitutions of the United States 
certainly, probably all of them, have refused to permit even the 
male sex to assume the elective trust, until the age of twenty-one 
years, in consequence of want of knowledge, experience, self- 
control, and general maturity of mind. This trust, moreover, 
is almost universally denied to Africans and their descendants. 

It is one of the great subjects of controversy in our day, 
whether any estate shall be required as a qualification for voting, 
— whether the electors shall be few (200,000), as in France; 

* See Charge to the Grand Jury of Suffolk County, Mass., December, 1835. 
By Honorable P. O. Thatcher, p. 26. 



116 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

or many comparatively, as in England and some of our States ; or 
whether the white males universally above twenty-one years of 
age shall be intrusted with this franchise. It is not my pur- 
pose, as it is not my province, to enter into this question ; and 
it has been adverted to only for the sake of illustrating the nature 
of the trust involved in the possession and exercise of the elec- 
tive franchise. It is, moreover, with us, a trust of much digni- 
ty and importance, inasmuch as the people are sovereign in this 
country, and the safe and healthy action of our political system 
depends entirely on the purity of purpose and principle with 
which elections are conducted. Our system cannot long sur- 
vive, when the elective franchise shall have generally ceased to 
be exercised with integrity and discretion. 

To this end, it is manifest, that this, like any other trust, 
ought not to be exercised in furtherance of private and selfish 
objects. It is conferred to be used for the public good, and in 
exercising it the elector must be guided by a wish faithfully to 
conform to the original design. He must be governed, in giving 
his vote, by his own views of public affairs, carefully formed and 
honestly entertained, and by his opinion of the character of the 
candidate and of his claims to public confidence. His vote, then, 
must not be influenced by mere party names and distinctions ; 
by blind eagerness to push a friend or relation into public notice ; 
by the desire of paying court to distinguished men with the hope 
of thus facilitating his own election at some future time ; or by 
private resentment against any of the candidates ; — all these 
views and motives, and many more, which are accustomed to 
have weight at elections, are private, selfish, degrading, in a 
transaction in which the public interest ought to be regarded, to 
the exclusion of every private and individual aim and interest. 

The two questions involving the greatest practical difficulty, in 
the mind of a conscientious elector, are these ; — how far may a 
man rightfully act with a party in times of public excitement ; 
— and how far, and in what ways, he may attempt to influence 
the votes of other electors. 

In political transactions generally, and most of all in elections, 
men must of necessity act in concert ; and it is their duty to co- 
operate with one another in pursuit of what they are convinced 



Chap. III.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 117 

is the general good. But there are limits to this duty, as well as 
to every other. No good man can cooperate with, or lend his 
influence to, a party which is pursuing an unjustifiable end. This 
is very plain ; but parties do not so often pursue unjustifiable 
ends, as good ends by unjustifiable means. This is the besetting 
sin of party, and the point on which every man needs to be put 
distinctly on his guard. A good man must not be drawn in, to 
aid in accomplishing even a good end by means morally unjusti- 
fiable. If there is a doubt, he may, nay, he ought, to give it 
in favor of the party with which he is accustomed to act ; but no 
excitement, no entreaties or reproaches of his associates, and no 
ostensible good in prospect, should ever prevail upon him to 
sanction palpable wrong by his participation. There is the more 
need of caution and firmness here, because men are frequently 
found to unite with a party in doing acts, of which they would 
blush to be guilty when acting without the countenance and 
encouragement of the many. But that cannot be right in a 
multitude, which is wrong in an individual. The moral standard 
is unchangeable ; it applies to the doings of a multitude, as well 
as to the conduct of an individual. 

Again, how far and in what ways may an elector (or a candi- 
date) endeavour to influence the votes of other electors ? As- 
suredly he may do this by imparting information, and by all the 
ways known to fair argument and honorable persuasion. These 
are means strictly moral, suitable in themselves, and honorable 
alike to him who employs them, and to him who yields to their 
influence. Consequently, all means of whatever kind opposite 
to, or inconsistent with these, are immoral and dishonorable to 
all who participate in them. 

One or two examples will set this point in a clear light, and 
show the importance of the principle which I am illustrating. 
A celebrated writer says, " It will be found in the main, that a 
power over a man's support, is a power over his will." Again 
he says, " The legislature (Congress) with a discretionary power 
over the salary and emoluments of the chief magistrate (mean- 
ing the President of the United States) could render him as ob- 
sequious to their will, as they might think proper to make him." 
And further he says, "If it were necessary to confirm so plain 



118 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

a truth by facts, examples would not be wanting, even in this 
country, of the intimidation or seduction of the executive by 
the terrors or allurements of the pecuniary arrangements of the 
legislative body."* Mr. Jefferson states, moreover, that the 
control of the legislature of Virginia over the "subsistence in 
office " of the governor, had caused " the direction of him, dur- 
ing the whole time of their session, to become habitual and fa- 
miliar." f 

If these things are true of the executives of the States and of 
the United States, men of the most elevated standing in society, 
as these celebrated authors assert, how much more emphatically 
true must they be of immense numbers to whom our consti- 
tutions have intrusted the exercise of the elective franchise. 
This conclusion applies particularly to nearly all the employed 
classes of persons in all branches of business, and through all 
the ramifications of society. They depend for their livelihood, 
for the conveniences and comforts of life, perhaps for their daily 
bread, on the good-will of their employers. How imperative, 
then, is the moral duty resting on employers of every grade and 
kind, to abstain from invading the rights of those who may be 
employed by them, in regard to the free exercise of the elective 
franchise. Tested by the consequences, this duty is imperative 
in proportion to the mischief which could not fail to result from 
the opposite course of conduct becoming general. And how 
flagrant an abuse of their situation as employers and patrons, to 
interfere with this birthright of the freeman, in any of the forms 
which intimidation so well knows how to assume and put in prac- 
tice, — such as the forfeiture of the patron's favor, menaces to 
tenants of expulsion from their farms, dismissal of workmen from 
manufacturing establishments, and threatening to withdraw his 
custom from tradesmen and artisans, in case their suffrages are 
given contrary to his wishes. While the employer maintains his 
own independence in giving his vote according to his judgment 
and conscience, let him respect the independence of other men 
as free, if not as wealthy and as well informed, as himself. 

* Alexander Hamilton, Federalist, No. LXXIII. 
t Notes on Virginia, Query 13, p. 227. 



Chap. IV.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 119 

When tried by the preceding principles, it cannot be neces- 
sary to do more than advert to several practices, which in cases 
of contested elections, are too common both in England and in 
this country, to insure their unqualified reprobation in the mind 
of every good man. The practices to which I refer, are calcu- 
lated to corrupt and poison the political institutions of a coun- 
try at their ultimate sources. Among the devices resorted to, 
in order to strengthen the interest of candidates and promote 
their success, are festive entertainments and supplies of spirituous 
liquors furnished at their expense to all who choose to partake 
of them ; reciprocal abuse and vilification of the candidates, and 
of all others who take a conspicuous part in elections ; menaces 
of violence and even actual violence at the polls ; imposing on 
the opposite party by the artifices and stratagems so well known 
to practised partisans ; prostituting the dignity and influence of 
official station to the success of party arrangements and combina- 
tions ; invoking the whole host of sectional, national, and per- 
sonal prejudices, to give fresh virulence to party warfare ; the 
organization of affiliated societies, (clubs and unions,) under 
party names, pervading every nook and corner of the country, 
and, by profligate emissaries, instituting an inquisition in every 
neighbourhood and family ; and, lastly, the bringing the elective 
franchise, by the undisguised sale and purchase of votes, into 
public market in the broad light of day. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE DUTY OF THE CITIZENS TO CULTIVATE A PATRIOTIC SPIRIT 
AND THE PATRIOTIC VIRTUES. 

The duty of the citizens to cultivate a patriotic spirit and the 
patriotic virtues comes next to be stated and illustrated. In the 
first stages of society, before the passions were curbed by edu- 
cation and discipline, before agriculture was advanced, com- 
merce and manufactures introduced, the arts and sciences in- 
vented, or the true religion made known, the great body of the 



120 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

people of every country were soldiers. War was the most 
honorable calling in the community, and the profession of the 
soldier naturally had the ascendency over every other. In such 
a state of society, the spoils of victory were the most honorable 
of all acquisitions, and it was deemed unworthy of a man to ac- 
quire by labor what might be obtained by blood.* 

As society advanced, the fierce spirit of war was softened, 
the arts of peace began to be cultivated ; knowledge, morals, and 
the true religion, took the place of ignorance and superstition ; 
industry became honorable ; and life, blessed by the fruits of 
labor and virtue, became gradually, at least in Christian coun- 
tries, comfortable, refined, and happy. The achievements of 
war have ever, by their brilliancy, struck the imagination more 
forcibly than the mild pursuits of peace ; and, until civilization 
was far advanced, the martial spirit was the genuine spirit of 
patriotism, and took precedence over every thing else. And 
while this spirit, as has before been said, has gradually given 
way to the better order of things, with which we have long since 
become familiar ; still much of it has been transferred to our 
times, and along with it the ancient estimate of the superior im- 
portance of the military profession. Hence it is, that even in 
our day, when the kingdom of the Prince of Peace is extensively 
established in the earth, the martial spirit, martial achievements, 
and martial renown, continue to be regarded by many, as the 
almost exclusive test, measure, and evidence of patriotism. 

But assuredly, without wishing to condemn the military spirit 
when suitably tempered and disciplined, or to detract from the 
value of military services, this view and estimate of patriotism 
and of the patriotic spirit are unnatural, illiberal, and unreasonable. 
What is there in the martial spirit or in martial services, which 
can make them patriotic, to the exclusion of successful invention 
in the arts and sciences, the diffusion of knowledge and reli- 
gion, and whatever other blessings the reign of morals, order, 
industry, and peace confer on mankind. 

When analyzed, the spirit of patriotism consists of at least 
two elements, — the love of country, and a willingness to employ 

* Tacitus, De Moribus Germanorum, c, 14. 



Chap. IV.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 121 

the choicest powers, physical, intellectual, and moral, in advanc- 
ing its interest, honor, and happiness. Every man whose breast 
is warmed by the love of country, and who is ready to devote 
his best powers of body and mind to its welfare, is fully entitled, 
in the best sense of the term, to the name and honors of patriot- 
ism. If it is urged, that the soldier devotes his life to the ser- 
vice of his country ; a sacrifice which, from the nature of the 
case, can be made in no peaceful profession, still, conceding the 
most that can be made of the argument in this way, the soldier 
is only entitled to higher praise, and, by no means, to the exclu- 
sive honors of patriotism. 

" The love of our country," says Vattel, u is natural to all 
men. The good and wise author of nature has taken care to 
bind them by a kind of instinct, to the places where they received 
their first breath. * But, frequently, some causes unhappily 
weaken or destroy this natural impression. The injustice or 
severity of the government too easily effaces it in the hearts of 
the subjects."! Again ; he says, " The state will be powerful 
and happy, if the good qualities of the subject, passing beyond 
the narrow sphere of the virtues of individuals, become the vir- 
tues of citizens. The grand secret of giving the virtues of 
individuals so happy a turn with respect to the state, is, to in- 
spire the citizens with an ardent love for their country. It 
will naturally follow, that each will endeavour to serve the state, 
and to apply all his powers and abilities to the advantage and 
glory of the nation." " And," continues he, u he must be 
very ignorant of politics, who does not know, that a virtuous 
nation will be more capable than any other, of forming a state 
that is at once happy, tranquil, flourishing, solid, respected by 
its neighbours, and formidable to its enemies." J Such are the 
views of this distinguished writer, in regard to the patriotic spirit 
and the patriotic virtues of the most effective and valuable kind. 
These virtues consist of industry, frugality, moderation combined 
with energy, physical and moral courage, disciplined passions, 
justice, benevolence, enterprise, foresight, and good faith, all 
enlightened and guided by exact and comprehensive knowledge. 

* See the Odyssey, Lib. IX. 34 - 36. t Law of Nations, p. 110, 

$ Idem, pp. 108,109. 

16 



122 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

The opinion prevailed in the time of Cicero, that the martial 
were superior to the civil and peaceful virtues ; but this opinion 
was not received by that profound moralist and accomplished 
statesman.* The services of Washington were neither less 
patriotic, nor less valuable, when, as chief magistrate of the 
United States, he was presiding over the civil interests of his 
country, than when, directing the storm of war and surrounded by 
its u pomp and circumstance," he was triumphing over the 
armies of Great Britain, at Boston, at Princeton, and at York- 
town. Civil transactions compose much of every military cam- 
paign, and the event of military arrangements not unfrequently 
turns on them ; and the revolutionary services of Washington, 
Greene, and La Fayette, great as they were, were not more in- 
dispensable to the success of the contest, than those of Franklin, 
Adams, Jay, and Jefferson. 

In fact, history makes known with the most convincing evi- 
dence, the truth, that mere physical power is of little avail, — 
nay, is absolute weakness, unless directed by skill and energy, 
and sustained by moral principles and the practice of the moral 
virtues. Moral power and well-digested discipline, capacity for 
order and arrangement, wisdom to direct among the well-edu- 
cated and well-principled citizens of a country, much more than 
personal prowess and individual valor, are the chief tower of 
strength to a country. This view of the ascendency of moral 
power (and how can it be gainsaid ?) over the affairs of a nation, 
and even over the events of war itself, widens immeasurably the 
field of patriotic feeling, enterprise, and achievement. More 
than this ; it reverses the order of merit on the scale of patriot- 
ism ; physical force becomes subordinate to moral ; every man 
may become a distinguished patriot without commanding an 
army ; and whoever contributes most to promote education, to 
augment the treasures of knowledge, to enlarge the circle of the 
arts and sciences, and more especially to sustain and strengthen 
the transcendent cause of morals and religion, is, of all men, best 
entitled to have his brows adorned with the honors of patriotism. 

* De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 22. 



Chap. V.J DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 123 



CHAPTER V. 

THE DUTY OF CITIZENS TO KEEP THEMSELVES WELL INFORMED 
RESPECTING PUBLIC MEN AND PUBLIC MEASURES. 

It is the duty of citizens to keep themselves well informed 
respecting public men and public measures. The exercise of the 
elective franchise by the people, is the principal way by which 
their sovereignty is made manifest ; and, to do this habitually with 
good judgment and discretion, a competent acquaintance with 
public affairs, and with the individuals who may from time to 
time become candidates for public office, is indispensable. Want 
of knowledge in a nation is an evil next in magnitude to a want 
of moral principle, and a disregard of the moral and patriotic 
virtues. 

Indeed, knowledge and morals, in a nation, are most intimately 
allied ; and it has been distinctly seen from the very founding of 
our institutions, that they could fulfil the hopes and expectations 
entertained of them, only while the great body of the people 
continued to be both well informed and moral in their habits. 
Moreover, the sentiment seems to have been universal in this 
country, that a well-educated people, would, of course, be a 
moral people ; and, if instruction in religion be made a part of 
popular education, the sentiment is fully sustained by experience. 
This most intimate connexion between knowledge and good 
morals, explains why the founders of our political institutions, 
have so much relied for their success on universal popular educa- 
tion. Believing the connexion between knowledge and morals 
to be indissoluble, they justly argued, that by effectually securing 
universal education, good moral habits and principles must prevail 
among the great body of the people. 

To this end, our state constitutions of government have made 
education, and the dissemination of knowledge, a subject of 
special recommendation and enactment ; and the framers of those 
instruments, and the people in adopting them, have manifested an 



Y 



124 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

anxiety and earnestness on this vital subject, of which we cannot 
be fully sensible, without making some examination. It must 
suffice, however, (o select a sentence from one of the state con- 
stitutions in each of the four great sections of the union, the 
northern, middle, southern, and western. 

The constitution of Massachusetts says, u Wisdom and know- 
ledge, as well as virtue, diffused generally among the body of the 
people, being necessary for the preservation of their rights and 
liberties, and as these depend on spreading the opportunities and 
advantages of education in the various parts of the country, and 
among the different orders of the people, it shall be the duty of 
the legislatures and magistrates, in all future periods of this com- 
monwealth, to cherish the interests of literature and the sciences, 
and all seminaries of them ; especially the university at Cam- 
bridge, and public schools and grammar schools in the towns." # 
The constitution of Pennsylvania says, u The legislature shall, as 
soon as conveniently may be, provide by law for the establish- 
ment of schools throughout the State, in such manner that the 
poor may be taught gratis. The arts and sciences shall be pro- 
moted in one or more seminaries of learning."! The constitu- 
tion of Georgia says, "The arts and sciences shall be promoted 
in one or more seminaries of learning ; and the legislature shall, 
as soon as conveniently may be, give such further donations and 
privileges to those already established, as may be necessary to 
secure the objects of their institution." J The constitution of 
Ohio says, "Religion, morality, and knowledge, being essential- 
ly necessary to the good government and the happiness of man- 
kind, schools and the means of instruction shall for ever be en- 
couraged by legislative provision." § 

These wise constitutional provisions have been carried into as 
full effect, as the nature of a free government permits, which can 
only give the people the opportunity of having their children 
taught, but cannot, like an arbitrary government, compel them to 
avail themselves even of a provision so much and so obviously 
for their benefit. But it may be said with great truth, that, in 
every State of the Union, no one needs to fail of an education 

f Chap. V. Sect. 2. t Art. VII. 1,2. t Art. IV. Sect. 13. § Art. VIII. 3. 



Chap. V.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 125 

suited to qualify him for the duties of citizenship. Nor have the 
constitutions and laws of the States alone manifested this earnest- 
ness and anxiety for universal education and the diffusion of use- 
ful knowledge among the great body of the people. The govern- 
ment of the United States has appropriated a large proportional 
part of all the public lands * for the encouragement of education ; 
and, in the federal constitution and laws, special care is taken to 
furnish the people with political information on which they can 
with safety rely, and to facilitate their acquiring it in every pos- 
sible way. Congress is forbidden to make any law abridging the 
freedom of speech or of the press, f To the same end, each 
House is required to keep a journal of its proceedings, and, with 
the exception of such parts as may in their judgment require 
secrecy, to publish the same from time to time. J The debates 
in both Houses (except when confidential business is transacted) 
are open to the public ; and, to give all possible assurance of full 
information being brought into debate, no member of either 
House of Congress can be questioned in any other place for any 
speech or debate in either House. § Moreover, it is made the 
constitutional duty of the President of the United States to give 
to Congress, from time to time, information of the state of the 
Union. || The documents in which this information is conveyed 
are very numerous ; and they are not only indispensable to the 
wise action of Congress, but come from the highest and most 
authentic source of information on public affairs, and the national 
mind is annually instructed and enlightened by them. 

The legislation of Congress has been in the best spirit of the 
provisions of the constitution. The freedom of the press is so 
unrestrained, that men are scarcely made responsible for its 
abuse ; and it may be said with truth, that the blessings which it 
is fitted to confer, are greatly diminished by its licentiousness. 
The journals of Congress and other public documents are pub- 

* An entire section (a square mile, or 640 acres) in each township of six miles 
square, is appropriated by law to the support of common schools in all the new 
States, — besides tracts for the ample endowment of universities, colleges, acad- 
emies, &c. According to Mr. Clay's Report on the Public Lands, of April 16th, 
1832, the aggregate of 8,460,547 acres had been appropriated to all these objects. 

t See Amendment I. J: Article I. Section 5. 3. 

§ Article I. Section 6. 1. || Article II. Section 3. 1. 



126 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

lished in such numbers, that, if the people fail of adequate infor- 
mation on public affairs, it can only be for want of time to read 
papers so voluminous. Every public library is gratuitously sup- 
plied with complete copies of them, and they are freely distrib- 
uted by the members of Congress among those whom they repre- 
sent. Newspapers, being the great vehicle of every-day informa- 
tion respecting public men and public measures, are made by law 
the objects of special favor in the arrangement of the mail, the 
expense of conveyance being so light as not to be burthensome 
to the poorest citizen; and more than ten thousand (11,100) 
post-offices convey them to every village and neighbourhood. 
Further to encourage the diffusion of political information which 
might not find its way into the public documents and newspapers, 
the same freedom from even the slightest expense of conveyance, 
is extended to the correspondence of every member of Congress, 
and every citizen is thus invited to communicate with the repre- 
sentative of his district with the utmost freedom, or with any 
other member with whom he may wish to hold communication. 
Thus invited and encouraged, and fully supplied with sources on 
which full reliance may be placed, if any citizen fails to keep 
himself well informed of public men and measures, he can com- 
plain of no one but himself. 

There are several other topics of argument by which this 
duty of the citizen might have been illustrated, — such as the 
indispensable necessity of the people possessing this information, 
to the suitable and satisfactory performance of any of the duties of 
citizenship ; and the consideration, that, in a popular government, 
the acquirement of this knowledge by the citizens is only quali- 
fying themselves to superintend their own business. But I have 
chosen the argument, by which the duty of the citizen to ac- 
quire the requisite information is inferred from the extraordinary 
facilities furnished him to this end ; and the rather so, because 
this source of illustration seems to have been seldom used. It 
may well be argued, that every duty is the more imperative as 
the means of fulfilling it are the more easily obtained. And, as 
the nation has, in its wisdom, rendered the means of political in- 
formation accessible to all, what can excuse an individual from 
the duty of availing himself of them ? 



Chap. IV.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 127 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE DUTY OF THE CITIZEN TO AID IN THE DEFENCE OF HIS 
COUNTRY, AND IN THE ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE, BY SERV- 
ING ON JURIES, GIVING TESTIMONY ON OATH, &c. 

It is easy to understand, that universal peace is the interest of 
all nations ; still history attests, that the utmost comity of one 
nation towards every other, joined with the most even-handed 
justice, has not always secured to it this great and invaluable 
blessing. The perverse passions of mankind,* the ambition and 
sometimes the resentment of princes, the thirst of powerful indi- 
viduals for personal distinction, the dazzling splendor of military 
glory acting on warm imaginations, the love of enterprise in 
many, and passion for excitement in all, conflicting rights, claims, 
and interests, and sometimes questions of mere etiquette, have 
all had their influence in disturbing and desolating the earth with 
frequent, afflictive, and sanguinary wars. 

We may hope and trust, that the blessing is in reserve for 
mankind, to have an international tribunal established for the ad- 
justment of national controversies without the arbitration of the 
sword. But hitherto all attempts to establish such a tribunal 
have been unsuccessful, the hopes of the friends of universal 
peace have been uniformly disappointed, and, amidst the conflict- 
ing interests, passions, and prejudices of individuals, parties, and 
nations, the maxim still retains much of its original force, that 
u the best way to insure peace is, to be fully prepared for war." 
Our duties, moral as well as civil, are prescribed by the present 
condition, circumstances, and prospects of human affairs ; — 
they must necessarily have reference to the existing state of 
things, and not to what we may wish they were, and may trust 
they will be at some time hereafter. And, as it is a moral duty 
of a very high order, to obey the government under which we 

* James iv. 1. 



128 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

live,* it seems too plain to require or even to admit further illus- 
tration, that all citizens who cannot claim exemption on some 
fair and reasonable ground, are morally bound, when called upon 
by government, to aid, and, if need be, personally to take part in 
the defence of their country. This aid is to be given cordially 
and cheerfully, not in obedience to power which we cannot re- 
sist, but as a part of our moral duty. 

Again, it is the duty of the citizen to render personal aid in 
the administration of justice, by serving on juries and by giving 
testimony on oath. cc The trial by jury," says Sir Matthew 
Hale, " is justly esteemed one of the chief excellences of the 
English constitution, it being an institution most admirably calcu- 
lated for the preservation of liberty, life, and property. Indeed, 
what greater security can we have for these inestimable blessings, 
than the certainty that we cannot be divested of either, without 
the unanimous decision of twelve of our honest and impartial 
neighbours ? This tribunal was universally established among all 
the northern nations, and so interwoven with their very constitu- 
tions, that the earliest account of the one, gives us also some 
traces of the other. In this nation," continues he, " it has been 
used time out of mind, and is coeval with the civil government 
thereof ; and, though its establishment was shaken for a time by 
the introdution of the Norman trial by battle, it was always so 
highly valued by the people, that no conquest, no change of gov- 
ernment could ever prevail to abolish it." f 

Our ancestors brought the trial by jury with them, when they 
settled this country, and the eulogiurn bestowed upon it by the 
wise, pious, and learned jurist just quoted, is not beyond their 
estimate of its value. It was claimed and admitted as a right 
from the beginning ; and, when this right was abridged by the 
British Parliament, the Congress of 1774 declared (see the fifth 
of their Resolutions), that " the respective colonies are entitled 
to the common law of England, and more especially to the great 
and inestimable privilege of being tried by their peers of the vi- 
cinity, according to the course of that law." In fact, the trial 

* See p. 100. — Rom. xiii. 1 - 7; 1 Peter ii. 1 3 - 17. 
t History of the Common Law, Vol. II. p. 134. 



Chap. VI] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 129 

by jury has always been regarded as the chief glory of our sys- 
tem of jurisprudence, and it is made the duty, as it is also the 
privilege of the citizen, in this way, personally to participate in 
the practical administration of justice. The grand, jury, more- 
over, besides being the grand inquest for the indictment of crim- 
inals, are the constituted guardians of the morals of the country, 
and in respect to this part of their functions, seem to correspond 
to the Roman censors,* to whom the cognizance and supervis- 
ion of the public morals were committed. 

This institution, therefore, so venerable for its antiquity, its 
wisdom, and its practical value, evinced in the preservation and 
security of estate, freedom, life, and character, wherever it has 
flourished, has been esteemed too valuable to be intrusted to any 
delegated body whatever ; — the people of this country, as well as 
of Great Britain, have wisely determined, by retaining it within 
their own keeping, to preserve, maintain, and defend it in its 
original integrity, and to hand it down unimpaired in value to 
coming generations. It is an institution, then, in the undimin- 
ished purity of which, the people have a universal interest. No 
one can foresee how soon his fortune, his reputation, his liberty, 
or his life may depend on the verdict of a jury ; and, however 
upright the jurors may be, it is still a valuable feature of this 
mode of trial, that their sense of justice is stimulated by antici- 
pating the possibility, that they may in turn, at some future time, 
be themselves placed in the situation of the accused. 

But, after all the safeguards which this institution contains 
within itself, and which can be thrown around it, many and great 
as they are, its practical value must essentially depend on the 
virtue and intelligence of the great body of the citizens, — on 
the candor, integrity, sense of justice, knowledge, and sagacity, 
strength, and comprehension of mind, earnest and continued at- 
tention, impartiality, freedom from prejudice and passion, firm- 
ness, and personal independence of the individuals, who make 
up the jury. Without candor, integrity, and a strong sense of 
justice, it may be a matter of indifference to the jury how they de- 
cide the causes which come before them ; without knowledge, and 

Censores mores populi regunlo. Cicero de Legibus, Lib. III. c. 3. 

17 



130 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

sagacity, strength, and comprehension of mind, and earnest and 
unbroken attention, they may, after the most full and lucid state- 
ments and illustrations of the bar and court, still be too imper- 
fectly acquainted with the many facts, circumstances, and rea- 
sonings pertaining to the case, to come to a sound decision on 
its merits ; if, again, they are wanting in impartiality and are influ- 
enced by prejudice and passion, the stains with which partiality, 
prejudice, and passion are accustomed to discolor every object, 
will be seen on their verdict ; if, finally, they are wanting in 
firmness and independence of understanding and judgment, they 
will be led blindly by the court, or in times of strong popular 
excitement, yielding to the general impulse, they will become the 
tools of party, or mere instruments in ministering to the excited 
passions of the multitude. 

It is the duty, then, of the citizen, to bring to the mainte- 
nance and support of this institution, those qualifications of heart 
and understanding, which are indispensable to give it its full effect 
and influence, and to sustain the high estimation with which it 
has been regarded wherever it has been known. Jury trials can 
fully answer their end, only in countries where education and the 
moral and manly virtues prevail, and only so long as they pre- 
vail ; and the state of trial by jury in any country is a very good 
index of the morals and intelligence of the people. Moreover, 
any duty which is committed to the hands of very many is in 
danger of being neglected by all ; and hence it happens, that 
many of our citizens, if they have suitable impressions of the 
importance of the institution, seem to be without adequate views 
of the moral and intellectual qualifications required, and of the 
moral responsibilities which the duty of a juryman imposes on 
him. The trial by jury is the main pillar in the temple of justice ; 
and impartiality, truth, knowledge, wisdom, integrity, candor, 
firmness, patience, and independence adorn its portals, and be- 
come its sacred precincts. It is the duty of the citizen further 
to aid in the administration of justice by giving testimony on oath 
in courts of justice, when required by law. 

Some persons, in their estimate of the obedience which they 
owe to the laws of their country, acknowledge themselves 
morally bound by such laws as prohibit intrinsic evil (malum 



Chap. VT.J DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 131 

per se)j while they consider themselves at liberty to evade, and 
this, too, with a safe conscience, such laws as make any thing an 
offence (malum prohibitum), which was not such before their 
enactment. For instance, theft is intrinsically a crime, in its 
nature ; but smuggling is an offence made such by the enact- 
ment of law. This distinction, when made for the purpose of 
obeying one law, and evading or breaking another, is unquestion- 
ably unsound. The law of the land is one of the chief moral 
rules by which the conduct of all is to be squared, and with a 
very few exceptions, and those of a character clearly extraordi- 
nary, is morally binding on all. # 



CHAPTER VII. 

MORAL DUTIES OF THE UNITED STATES, REGARDED AS 
COMMUNITIES, TO ONE ANOTHER. 

Independent states, kingdoms, empires, commonwealths, 
all civil communities, under whatever name, are moral persons, 
endowed with understanding, will, and conscience, capable of 
merit or demerit, responsible for their acts, and charged with 
duties of various kinds, f 

The United States owe to one another all the duties pre- 
scribed by the Law of Nature and Nations, which independent 
nations owe to each other. The principle which lies at the 
foundation of these duties, says Montesquieu, is, that u different 
nations ought to do each other as much good in peace, and as 
little harm in war, as possible, without injury to their true inter- 
ests." J Lord Bacon says, u The Divine Law is the perfection 
both of the Law of Nature and Nations," and he applies the law 
of Christian charity, § and the law of our neighbour, || " which 
includes the Samaritan as well as the Levite," to the case of 

* See pp. 29 - 32, 100. t Valtel, Preliminary Principles, § 2. 

t L'Esprit des Lois, Book I. c. 3. § " Lex charitatis," Matt. vii. 12. 

|| " Lex proximi," Luke x. 29 - 37. 



132 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

nations, and this he does to the exclusion of the principles of 
jurists, when the latter do not agree with the former. * 

Again ; " In cases of doubt," says Chitty, " arising upon 
what is the Law of Nations, it is now an admitted rule amongst 
all European nations, that our common religion, Christianity, 
pointing out the principles of natural justice, should be equally 
appealed to and observed by all as an unfailing rule of construc- 
tion." f Finally, in 1815, the emperors of Austria and Russia, 
and the king of Prussia, " declared, in the face of the whole 
world, their fixed resolution, both in the administration of their 
respective states, and in their political relations with every other 
government, to take for their sole guide, the precepts of Chris- 
tian charity and peace, which, far from being applicable only 
to private concerns, must have an immediate influence on the 
councils of princes, and guide all their undertakings, and as 
being the only means of consolidating human institutions and 
remedying their imperfections." f Thus, these high authorities 
distinctly recognise Christian morals and the Christian religion, 
as the basis of the reciprocal dudes of nations. 

Christianity, then, is the ultimate standard, to which, among 
Christian nations, international duties are to be referred, and the 
rule by which they are to be measured. Every Christian nation 
is bound to conduct towards every other, as it wishes that others 
should, in like circumstances, conduct towards itself. They are 
morally bound to respect the rights, and, in every reasonable way 
and degree, to consult the welfare and interests of one another. 
But Vattel has well said, cc that it exclusively belongs to 
each nation to form its own judgment of what its own conscience 
prescribes to it ; of what it can or cannot do ; of what is 
proper, or improper, for it to do."§ Especially, they are 
to respect each other's freedom, independence, sovereignty, 
and rightful jurisdiction. One nation is to perform, in all good 
faith, the duties of neutrality towards other nations, which, unable 
to adjust their differences by peaceable means, have submitted 
them to the arbitration of the sword. No nation is permitted, 

* Works, Vol. II. pp. 289-294. 4to. London, 1765. 

t Note to Vattel on the Law of Nations, Preliminary Principles, § 3. 

t Niles's Register, Vol. X. p. 92. § Preliminary Principles, § 1.4, 16. 



Chap. VIL] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 133 

by its duty, to interfere in the internal concerns of another na- 
tion. Every nation is entitled to manage its internal concerns 
in its own way, without the interference or dictation of another. 
Any interference of this kind tends to disturb friendly intercourse, 
and is just cause of offence. 

These duties, indeed, are too well understood to be often 
violated ; but there is another, the violation of which is much 
more common ; — I refer to the case of one nation counte- 
nancing the infringement of the laws of another, and even lend- 
ing the aid of its tribunals to carry such infringement into effect.* 
Assuredly, Mr. Justice Story well concludes, with Pothier, 
that such a practice is inconsistent with good morals, and sound 
views of international duties and obligations. " The natural 
and primary law is that of God and our conscience, the law 
which enjoins us to do good to our neighbour, whether in literal 
strictness he may have a perfect right to demand such treatment 
from us or not. This is a law that ought to be as strong in 
obligation as the most distinct and positive rule, though it may 
not always be capable of the same precise definition, nor conse- 
quently may allow the same remedies to enforce its observance. 
As an individual is bound by the law of nature to deal honorably 
and truly with other individuals, whether the precise acts re- 
quired of him be or be not such as their own municipal law will 
enforce ; just so a state, in its relations with other states, is 
bound to conduct itself in the spirit of justice, benevolence, 
and good faith, even though there be no positive rules of inter- 
national law, by the letter of which it may be actually tied down. 
The same rules of morality which hold together men in families, 
and which form families into a commonwealth, also link together 
several commonwealths as members of the great society of man- 
kind. Commonwealths, as well as private men, are liable to 
injury, and capable of benefit, from each other ; it is, therefore, 
their duty to reverence, to practise, and to enforce those rules 
of justice, which control and restrain injury, which regulate and 
augment benefit, which preserve civilized states in a tolerable 
condition of security from wrong, and which, if they could be 

* See Story's " Commentaries on the Conflict of Laws," pp. 204, 205,212. 



134 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

generally obeyed, would establish and permanently maintain, the 
well-being of the universal commonwealth of the human race."* 

The peculiar duties, which the United States owe to each other, 
chiefly respect the preservation of that harmony, which it is so es- 
sential to maintain among communities standing in a relation so 
very intimate to one another, and without which reflecting men 
have always foreseen, the union could not long subsist. It is the 
moral duty of the citizen to obey the laws ; and, as the Constitu- 
tion of the United States is the highest law known to the country, 
an observance of its obligations, becomes the highest rule of duty 
to the citizen next after the divine law. A constitutional duty, 
then, is a great moral duty, binding on the states as communities, 
and, of course, binding on the consciences of the individual 
citizens of which the State is composed. This cannot be de- 
nied, without falling into the absurd consequence, that what is 
binding on the body politic, is not binding on the members. 
But the duty of the States and of the citizens to maintain this 
harmony, which is the great object kept in view by the Constitu- 
tion in those of its provisions which refer to the relation and 
intercourse of the coordinate States with each other, may be most 
successfully illustrated by reviewing the occasions, on which it 
has been most frequently violated, and on which future violations 
are most likely to occur. 

1. One way in which this duty of cultivating harmony and 
maintaining friendly relations, has sometimes been violated is, 
by a course of unfriendly legislation by one State, calculated and 
intended to affect injuriously the interests of one or more of its 
sister States. Such a course arises from a real or supposed in- 
consistency of interests. f Sometimes it has arisen from a wish, 
by one State, to obtain for its citizens exclusive advantages, 
which in reason equally belonged to other States. f 

Every thing of this kind rests on the ground, that the pecuni- 
ary interest of a State is its highest interest ; — when, viewed as 
a mere stroke of selfish policy, it is mistaken and short-sighted, 
as indeed are all violations of moral duty either by individuals or 

* Chitty, note to Vattel on the Law of Nations. — Prelim, Principles, § 10. 
t See The Federalist, p. 116. X Wheaton's Reports, Vol. ix. p. 1. 



Chap. VII] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 135 

communities. It is the duty of the States to cooperate with each 
other in every thing that pertains to the common good ; and, 
while they consult their own interest, to have a generous regard 
for the interests of the other States. Indeed, this country has 
witnessed many gratifying instances, in which two or more States, 
forgetting all narrow and local interests, and laying aside all local 
jealousies, have cordially united in enterprises tending to the 
common good. And, while the States maintain a generous and 
honorable rivalship in regard to the acquisition of wealth, renown, 
and influence, let them carefully preserve an attitude of friend- 
ship and good-will ; and let each and every one show herself 
studiously regardful of all the civilities, proprieties, and courte- 
sies, which are due to one another from the members of a nu- 
merous sisterhood. 

2. But harmony between the States is not in so much danger 
of being disturbed by the direct interference of one State with 
another, through selfish, unfriendly, and vexatious legislation, as 
by the officious and unwarrantable interference of individuals, 
and more especially of self-constituted societies. Societies may 
be, and in fact, as is well known, have been organized in some 
of the United States, designed to affect, perhaps to destroy, the 
institutions of other States, which the individuals associated sup- 
pose to be capable of improvement, or which, they may suppose, 
ought to be destroyed. All this is contrary to the moral duty of 
the individuals concerned ; and, if such societies become danger- 
ous to the peace and safety of the States whose institutions they are 
designed to affect, and especially when they become the subject of 
general and official complaint, and a source of discord, misunder- 
standing, and alarm, it seems to be the duty of the States in which 
they exist, to suppress them by the strong and decisive arm of 
the law.* 

Any interference of one nation with the institutions or con- 
cerns of another, however indirect, is always extremely delicate, 
calculated to excite distrust and misunderstanding, and is just 
cause of offence. Nor, in such a case, can the conduct of indi- 

* See Governor Marcy's Message to the Legislature of New York, January, 
1836, — and the Report of a Select Committee to the Legislature of New- 
Hampshire, on Abolition Societies, made and accepted in January, 1837. 



136 OUR RELATION TO OUR COUNTRY. [Part II. 

viduals, or of combinations of individuals, well be distinguished 
from that of the nation itself. Every nation is responsible for 
the conduct of its members. This is the established doctrine 
of the Law of Nations, and must unquestionably apply in all its 
force (a fortiori) to the very intimate relation subsisting among 
the United States.* 

3. Again, another way in which the harmony of the States, 
and also of still larger sections of the Union, has been, and may 
be still further impaired is, by the mutual abuse and vilification 
of one another's institutions and other peculiarities, circulated in 
newspapers, reviews, and sometimes in publications of more 

* "If the other States of the Union," says the legislature of North Carolina, 
" were foreign states, it would be a violation of national law in them, either to 
set on foot themselves, or permit their own subjects to set on foot, any project 
the object or tendency of which would be to disturb our peace, by arraying one 
portion of society against another. The Constitution which unites us, and by 
virtue of which we have ceased to be foreign states in regard to each other, 
and have become bound in the closest union, and the most intimate relations, 
for the promotion of the common defence and general welfare, cannot be sup- 
posed to have lessened our mutual obligations, or to have made an act harmless, 
which would have been gross wrong, had we continued in respect to each other 
as we now are in respect to other nations, — in war, enemies, and only in peace, 
friends. It is evident, on the contrary, that every duty of friendship towards 
each other, which before existed, is by our uniou heightened in its obligation, 
and enforced by motives the most exalted and endearing. Whatever institution 
or state of society we think proper to establish or permit, is by no other State to 
be disturbed or questioned. We enter not into the inquiry, whether such insti- 
tution be deemed by another State just or expedient. It is sufficient that we 
think proper to allow it. To protect us from attempts to disturb what we allow 
and they approve, would be to support not our institutions, but their own opin- 
ions, — to exercise a supervising power over our legislation, and to insult us 
with a claim of superiority in the very offer to discharge the duty which our 
relations authorize us to require. As our right is indisputable to regulate ex- 
clusively, according to our own notions, the interior relations of our own peo- 
ple, the duty of preventing every attempt to disturb what we have established, 
results from the simple fact, that we have established it. And the propriety and 
impropriety, in the view of others, of such regulations as we have pleased to 
make, can never either enhance or lessen the duty of such prevention. No 
other State, therefore, and no portion of the people of any other State, can claim 
to interfere in any matter of ours, either by authority, advice, or persuasion ; 
and such an attempt, from whatever quarter it may come, must ever be met by 
us with distrust, and repelled with indignation." (Report and Resolutions of 
North Carolina, on the Subject of Incendiary Publications, December 19th, 
1835.) 



Chap. VII.] DUTIES OF PATRIOTISM. 137 

grave importance. The relation of sisterhood is singularly ex- 
pressive of the connexion which subsists between these States, 
— the peculiarities and even the defects of any one or more of 
them, are entitled to be viewed with candor and even with in- 
dulgence by any others, who may feel themselves justified in re- 
garding whatever pertains to themselves with peculiar compla- 
cency. At all events, it is not the part of individuals or com- 
munities, which stand in a relation so intimate to each other, 
whose highest interests, hopes, and prospects, — nay, whose 
destinies are inseparably united, and who consequently must stand 
or fall together, who have so direct and palpable an interest in 
maintaining harmony, and in the mutual welfare and good opinion 
of each other, to seize every occasion to abuse, vilify, and mis- 
represent each other. Much mischief has been done by the 
mutual abuse, vilification, and misrepresentation, which have 
passed between the northern, southern, and western sections of 
the Union even thus far ; — and these great divisions of the coun- 
try, which ought to be indissolubly bound to one another by the 
golden chain of mutual harmony and good feeling, have been 
and may again be in danger, by reason very much of this mutual 
abuse and irritation, of being permanently alienated, and of being 
separated into as many alien, unsocial, jealous, and hostile sov- 
ereignties, feeble and despicable in respect to every thing for- 
eign, and formidable only to one another. 

Finally, the several United States owe it to themselves, to 
each other, to the Union, and to the supremacy of moral princi- 
ple, to observe, uphold, and adhere to the Constitution of the 
United States ; to submit to its provisions, the laws made in 
pursuance thereof, and the decisions of its tribunals. The obli- 
gation of this duty is in proportion to their ability to make suc- 
cessful resistance. Many of the States are too powerful for 
coercion ; they must be governed, therefore, not by physical 
force, but must be kept within the rightful limits of their con- 
stitutional duty by the strength of their inherent moral principle. 

18 



PART THIRD. 

THE CHIEF RELATIONS OF MANKIND TO ONE AN- 
OTHER, AND THE DUTIES THENCE ARISING,— 
THAT IS, THE DUTIES WHICH MEN RECIPROCAL- 
LY OWE TO EACH OTHER. 

Our relation to God and our country, and the duties thence 
arising, have been as fully considered as consists with my de- 
sign. But we sustain other relations, of various kinds, and of 
various degrees of intimacy, the effect of all of which is, to charge 
us with peculiar duties and impose on us peculiar responsibilities. 
These are the relations of husband and wife, of parents and chil- 
dren, of brothers and sisters, of master and servant, of principal 
and agent, with (heir corresponding duties and rights. The re- 
lations of guardian and ward, and of instructer and pupil, are 
branches of, or rather substitutes for, the parental relation. The 
obligation of truth between man and man, and of the observance 
of promises, springs directly from the relation in which men 
stand to each other as moral and responsible beings. Contracts 
of various kinds include a very large part of the business trans- 
actions of mankind, and the relation of the contracting parties 
in forming and executing such contracts is another source of 
moral duties. Our social rank and relative standing in society 
place us in the relation of superiors, equals, or inferiors. If 
we are blessed with wealth and consequent leisure, we are 
thereby brought into new relations towards those who have been 
less favored than ourselves with the bounties of Providence ; — 
we owe them our personal services in their behalf, and pecuniary 
relief, when they are destitute of the comforts and especially the 
necessaries of life. The duties of friendship and hospitality, 
and the mutual duties of benefactor and beneficiary, also claim 
a portion of our consideration and regard. The relation of good 



Part III.] THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. 139 

neighbourhood, moreover, is one on which much of our peace 
and happiness depends. 

This enumeration of the relations in which men stand to each 
other is not complete, nor is designed to be complete ; but it 
comprises all those which are usually made the subjects of in- 
quiry in elementary treatises of moral philosophy. Some of 
them are natural, others voluntary, others both natural and volun- 
tary. Some are permanent and sanctioned by law, others are 
transient and incidental. One (marriage) is sanctioned by the 
united power of personal choice, law, and religion. Our relative 
duties are chiefly performed in private, and are withdrawn from 
the gaze of the world ; but they are extremely important, by 
reason of their number, the constancy of their recurrence, and 
the endless variety of their ramifications ; by which they pervade 
human society in all its ranks, modifications, and degrees of im- 
provement. The happiness of mankind, therefore, is deeply 
concerned in these relations being well understood, and the duties 
which flow from them being suitably performed. Some atten- 
tion must have been given them in every stage of society. 
Their importance is of the first order ; and, in every civilized 
country, they have been made the subject of anxious and careful 
consideration and inquiry. They are made the subject of three 
of the ten commandments, and the Hebrew Scriptures abound 
with precepts and examples, illustrating their nature, and en- 
forcing their fulfilment. Christianity has recognised, strengthened, 
and refined these relations, and has prescribed and enforced the 
duties of many of them by new, positive, and more definite in- 
structions. To collect these instructions, to arrange, amplify, 
limit, and apply them to the relations of life, giving their authority 
the first rank, and accompanying them with argument and eluci- 
dations drawn from reason, experience, authors ancient and 
modern, and every other accessible source, will swell this branch 
of my treatise much beyond the size of the other parts into 
which it is divided. 

The key to the morals of this important branch of the subject, 
is given us by our Saviour in this saying, M All things whatsoever 
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them, 
for " (it is added to give preeminence to the precept) " this is 



140 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

the law and the prophets."* This is the grand rule, by which 
we must in all cases regulate our conduct towards others ; and it 
is a rule, plain, simple, concise, intelligible, comprehensive, and 
every way worthy of its Divine Author. Whenever we are de- 
liberating how we ought to act towards another person in any 
particular instance, we must, in imagination, change situations 
with him, — we must place him in our circumstances, and our- 
selves in his, and then impartially inquire, how we might reason- 
ably expect him to behave towards us, if our respective situa- 
tions were exchanged. Every man, at first sight, must perceive, 
that this would lead to universal justice, truth, goodness, gentle- 
ness, compassion, beneficence, forgiveness, candor, and charity, 
and exclude every thing of an opposite nature. If we honestly 
proceeded in this way, we should seldom need a casuist, to 
teach us how we ought to act towards other men, in any possi- 
ble situation or circumstances. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS AND THE DUTIES SPRINGING 

FROM THEM. 

The domestic relations and their appropriate duties, being 
first in the order of importance, deservedly claim the first 
rank. The family is the original of all societies, and contains 
the foundation and primitive elements of all other institutions. 
The family was instituted by God himself, f and with this insti- 
tution, he crowned the fair creation which he had made in six 
days and pronounced very good. As it was the first of all 
human associations, so it is the most natural, the most permanent, 
and the most effective of good. 

We are accustomed to unite ourselves into artificial associa- 
tions, useful and valuable for the ends which they have in view ; 
but they are the work of men's hands, they partake of the frailty 

* Matt. vii. 12. t See Genesis i. 26 -28 ; ii. 18 - 24. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 141 

of man, their author, and are not to be compared with the 
original domestic societies into which we are united by the or- 
dinance of God himself. In the smallest and most familiar 
things, the thoughts of the Almighty are above our thoughts and 
his ways above our ways.* We have asylums in which many 
children are fed, clothed, and instructed ; hospitals in which many 
sick, friendless, and destitute persons are received and cared for, 
and associations whose object is, to spread the knowledge and 
blessings of Christianity. All these institutions are useful and 
valuable, and do distinguished honor to the age and country in 
which we live. But how many children are fed, clothed, and 
instructed in all our asylums, compared with the multitudes who 
are thus much more effectually cared for in all the families which 
fill the land ? How many sick, friendless, and destitute persons 
are relieved in all our hospitals, compared with the number 
among us, who, at their own houses are watched over by the 
nursing care of mothers and sisters, and surrounded and soothed 
by the tenderness which grows up only in the family circle ? 
To how many do our religious associations impart the knowledge 
and blessings of Christianity, compared with the numbers to 
whom domestic instruction and example impart their first pious 
impressions, and their earliest and most effectual religious training ? 
These comparisons are not made in order to depreciate our asy- 
lums, hospitals, and missionary associations, — far, very far from 
it ; but that our attention may be distinctly drawn, at the outset, 
to the importance of our domestic relations and the duties which 
originate in them, and because we are always in danger of disre- 
garding and neglecting whatever is familiar and of daily re- 
currence. That simple and unostentatious society which God has 
instituted, a family , — that refuge from the storms of life, our 
home, raised and consecrated by the holiest instinct of our na- 
ture, is an establishment worth infinitely more than all the insti- 
tutions great and small, which man has ever devised. In truth, 
just as far as this is improved, as its duties are suitably performed, 
and its blessings prized, all artificial institutions are superseded. 
Here, then, is the appropriate sphere for the agency of the wise 



* Isaiah lv. 8, 9. 



142 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III, 

and good. Improve the family, strengthen the relations of do- 
mestic life, and more is done for the happiness and progress of 
mankind, than by the most splendid charities. 

Moreover, whatever there is of dignity, interest or importance 
in government, education, and religion, is all combined in the 
family, when well regulated. It includes the maintenance of a 
just and rightful authority, and the wise administration of discip- 
line. The earliest and most lasting impressions are made at the 
domestic fireside ; the manners are formed there, good or evil 
principles are imbibed there ; the temper and affections are cul- 
tivated and regulated there ; the habits and sentiments, which in 
a great measure govern future life, are contracted there ; — the 
family, then, is a more extensive and effectual place of education 
than the school, the college, or the university. There, too, the 
infant is first taught to lisp its brief, unaffected prayer ; there, 
day by day, the Scriptures are searched ; and there, morning and 
evening, the inmates prostrate themselves, in united prayer to 
the Father of light, at the domestic altar ; — the pious family, 
then, is a church of the most High God.* 

Consulting convenience and perspicuity of arrangement, it will 
be 'useful to subdivide this chapter, by reason of its unusual 
length, and the variety of subjects which it embraces, into sev- 
eral sections. I. The relation of husband and wife, and their 
reciprocal duties. II. Of parents and children. III. Of 
brothers, sisters, and more remote relatives. IV. Of master 
and servant. 

SECTION I. 

The relation of husband and wife is the first of the domestic 
relations, and the foundation of all the rest. In all countries 
raised above barbarism, this relation has been considered pecu- 
liarly sacred, and involving duties of the most solemn and respon- 
sible kind. Almost universally, a religious sanction has been 
believed to pertain to this relation ; and the narrative of the crea- 
tion of man, and of the institution of marriage in the persons 

* Colossians iv. 15 ; Philemon ii. ', Dr. Channing on Associations, in " The 
Christian Examiner," of September 1829, pp. 116, 117. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 143 

of Adam and Eve, accompanied by the strong declaration of 
our Saviour, " What God hath joined, let not man put asun- 
der," * seems fully to warrant this belief. 

Accordingly, in Christian countries, it has, with almost uni- 
versal consent and approbation, been solemnized by the minis- 
ters of religion, and before the altar ; and, in the largest branch 
of the Christian church, the dignity of a sacrament has been 
conferred on it, and the consent of the parties is ratified by the 
solemnities of a sacramental service. In this country, the muni- 
cipal law regards marriage as a civil contract between the par- 
ties, and permits its celebration by a civil magistrate ; but 
public opinion, stronger and more authoritative than law, has 
made this provision nothing worth, and the marriages are ex- 
tremely few, which are not celebrated by clergymen. The 
municipal law, moreover, although it does not acknowledge the 
religious character of this contract, still treats it as it treats no 
other contract. In no Christian country, can it be dissolved by 
the mere consent of both parties, or even of all the persons in- 
terested in its continuance ; and, in England and every one of the 
United States, its dissolution can be accomplished only after 
much delay and expense, and for reasons of the most peculiar and 
pressing kind. In this State (S. Carolina), there has been no 
instance, since the revolution, of a divorce of any kind, either by 
the sentence of a court of justice, or by act of the legislature, f 

Nor are the importance of the marriage union, and the objects 
of its institution, unworthy of its divine origin, and of the nu- 
merous and special guards which the law has thrown around it for 
its protection and perpetuation. The number and solemn na- 
ture of the duties springing from the relation, fully correspond to 
the importance and sacredness which belong to the relation itself. 
But how shall these duties be enumerated ? how described and 
set forth with adequate fulness and variety of illustration ? They 
occur every day, and almost every hour of every day. They 
are not confined to the external conduct, nor to the expressions 
of the tongue ; they reach the thoughts and intents of the heart. J 

Besides being numerous and various, these duties are of every 

* Matt. xix. 6. t Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. II. p. 88. 

X Matt. v. 28. 



144 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

degree of magnitude. Some of them are great duties, — so 
great, indeed, that the comfort, the happiness, nay, the salvation 
of the parties, may depend on their being suitably performed. 
Some of them are so delicate as to require the best-disciplined 
temper and passions, the most just taste, the most mature judg- 
ment, and the most cultivated understanding, for their suitable 
appreciation and performance. Many of them are too minute 
and evanescent to be reached by any description short of in- 
spiration itself. And accordingly it is in the Scriptures, that we 
find this relation and its duties described with a fulness, pertinen- 
cy, and strength of illustration, which we attempt in vain to find 
elsewhere. Every image and every expression by which intima- 
cy, delicacy, and tenderness can be conveyed, is exhausted by 
the sacred writers. The state itself is commended by St. Paul 
to be honorable in all men.* Christianity recalled marriage to 
the original standard appointed by the Creator, the union of one 
man with one woman. f This union cannot rightfully be dis- 
solved, but from a single cause. f 

The equality in number, too, of men and women born in all 
ages and countries, proves polygamy to be as inconsistent with 
the law of nature as it is with the ordinance of God. This ar- 
gument is used by the prophet Malachi, who well says, if it had 
been the intention of the Almighty to permit a man to have more 
than one wife, he would have created a greater number of women 
than of men.§ Thus, as St. Paul says, every man is to have 
his own wife, and every woman her own husband. || The hus- 
band is to render unto the wife due benevolence, and likewise, 
also, the wife unto the husband. IT Husbands are to dwell with 
their wives according to knowledge, giving honor unto the wife, 
as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the 
grace of life, that their prayers be not hindered. ## The husband 
is declared to be the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head 
of the church. Husbands are to love their wives, even as Christ 
also loved the church and gave himself for it.ff He that loveth 
his wife loveth himself ; and it is declared to be as inconsistent for 

* Hebrews xiii. 4. f Gen. ii. 22-24 ; Matt. xix. 3-8. J Matt. xix. 9. 
§ Malachi ii. 14 - 16- || I Cor. vii. 2. H 1 Cor. vii. 3. 

** I Peter iii. 7. ft Eph. v. 23, 25. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 145 

a husband to hate his own flesh, which he is accustomed to nour- 
ish and cherish, as to hate his wife.* A man leaving his father 
and mother, and being joined to his wife, is called a great mys- 
tery, f On the other hand, the virtuous wife is called a crown 
to her husband ; f the heart of her husband is said safely to 
trust in her ; — through her influence, her husband is known in 
the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. Her 
children arise up and call her blessed, her husband also, and he 
praiseth her.§ Wives are to submit themselves to their own 
husbands, as unto the Lord. As the church is subject unto 
Christ, so are wives to be 'to their own husbands in every thing. 
The wife is to see, that she reverence her husband. || 

Again, the adorning of women, is not to be the outward 
adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, and of put- 
ting on of apparel ; but it is to be the hidden man of the heart, 
in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek 
and quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of God, of great price. 
Sarah, who obeyed Abraham, calling him lord, and other holy 
women of ancient times, are made examples of suitable beha- 
viour, who trusted in God, and adorned themselves, being in 
subjection to their own husbands. f St. Paul declares it to be 
fit in the Lord, that wives submit themselves to their own hus- 
bands ; and he exhorts them to love their husbands, to love their 
children, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient 
to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed.** 

The preceding passages, numerous as they are, are only a 
small part of what the Scriptures contain, pertaining to this most 
important of the domestic relations. They are full, distinct, au- 
thoritative, — and there is no mistaking their import. Still it 
may be useful specially to illustrate and dwell upon two par- 
ticulars. 

1. The union of feeling and sentiment, so much insisted on 
between the parties to the marriage relation, in the New Testa- 
ment, must not rest in theory alone, — it is designed to answer 
the most important practical purposes. Without a good degree 

* Eph. v. 28, 29. t Eph. v. 31, 32. t Prov. xii. 4. 

§ Prov. xxxi. 11, 23, 28. || Eph. v. 22, 24, 33. 

IT 1 Peter iii. 1 -6. ** Col. iii. 18; Titus ii. 4, 5. 

19 



146 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

of unity of feeling, design, and action, every thing in a family 
must inevitably go wrong ; and coldness and gloom, if not distrust 
and discord, will be guests, where quiet, peace, tranquillity, mu- 
tual regard and confidence ought to reign with unbroken sway. 
Quietness under our own roof, and quiet in our own consciences, 
are blessings of unknown value, for the want of which nothing can 
atone. " Abroad," says an admirable writer, " we must more 
or less find tribulation ; yet, as long as our home is a secure and 
peaceful retreat from all the disappointments and cares which 
we meet with in that great scene of vexation, the world, we may 
still be tolerably happy. But, if that which should be our main 
sanctuary from uneasiness becomes our principal disquietude, 
how great must our uneasiness be. There cannot be a greater 
curse, than to have those of one's own household one's greatest 
foes ; when we neither can live happily with them, nor must 
think of living apart from them." Again, "To see a well- 
regulated family, acting as if they were one body informed by 
one soul, where, if one member suffers, all the members suffer 
with it ; to see those who are embarked together in one bottom, 
whose interests are inseparably united, and therefore whose 
hearts ought to be so too, acting in concert, adopting each other's 
cares and making them their own, uniting their friendly beams, 
and jointly promoting the common happiness, is a beautiful scene, 
and amiable even in the sight of that Being, who maketh men to 
be of one mind in a house. How joyful a thing it is for breth- 
ren to dwell together in unity." * 

How just a picture does our Saviour draw, when he says, 
"Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation ; 
and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand." f 
Party distraction, conflicting interests and passions, abuse and 
violence, strife and bitterness, are sometimes sufficiently afflictive 
in kingdoms, commonwealths, and cities ; but in families, when 
once they break forth, they rage with ten-fold virulence and mis- 
chief. " When peace and tranquillity are banished from all places 
else on the earth, the condition of life still remains tolerable, 
while harmony presides around the domestic altar. "J 

* Jeremiah Seed's Sermons, Vol. I. pp. 39, 44. t Matt. xii. 25. 

X See Bishop Jeremy Taylor's Sermons, Vol. I. p. 323. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 147 

2. The other particular deemed worthy of special illustra- 
tion, respects the precedence assigned in the Scriptures to the 
husband, and the corresponding obedience which the wife is en- 
joined to render to his wishes and commands. This particular 
is intimately connected with the preceding, inasmuch as differ- 
ences of opinion and inclination must sometimes inevitably ex- 
ist between persons in married life ; and it ought to be settled 
and understood beforehand, which party shall, in the last resort, 
give way. On this particular, St. Chrysostom says, u Equality 
breeds contention, and one of the two must be superior, or else 
both would strive perpetually for the dominion. Wherefore," 
continues he, u the laws of God and the wisdom of all nations 
have given the superiority to the husband." * 

Reason and Scripture then concur in claiming precedence for 
the husband in this respect ; and, moreover, this claim rests on 
the substantial grounds of greater experience and knowledge of 
the world, a superior education in most instances, and much 
greater responsibility in providing for the wants and meeting the 
expectations of a family. But, in using this precedence with 
which the husband is invested, let him remember, as Bp. Jeremy 
Taylor well says, that " A husband's power over his wife is pa- 
ternal and friendly, not magisterial and despotic. The wife is 
under perpetual guardianship (in perpetud tuteld), under conduct 
and counsel ; for the power a man hath is founded in the under- 
standing, not in the will or force ; it is not a power of coercion, 
but a power of advice, and that government that wise men have 
over those who are fit to be conducted by them." Again he 
says, " The husband and wife in the family are as the sun and 
moon in the firmament of heaven ; he rules by day, and she by 
night, that is, in the lesser and more proper circles of her af- 
fairs, in the conduct of domestic provisions and necessary offices, 
and shines only by his light and rules by his authority ; and as 
the moon in opposition to the sun shines brightest, that is, then 
when she is in her own circles and separate regions, so is the 
authority of the wife then most conspicuous, when she is separ- 
ate and in her proper sphere." 

* Quoted in Bishop Brownell's Commentary on the Book of Common Prayer. 
p. 379. 



148 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

And further, " Concerning the woman's duty, it consists in 
doing whatsoever her husband commands, and so receives meas- 
ures from the rules of his government. Her first duty is obe- 
dience, which, because it is nowhere enjoined that the man should 
exact of her, but often commanded to her to pay, gives demon- 
stration that it is a voluntary cession that is required ; such a 
cession, as must be without coercion and violence on his part, 
but on fair inducements and reasonableness in the thing, and out 
of love and honor on her part." Again he says, quaintly enough, 
as elsewhere, <c It is modesty to advance and highly to honor 
them who have honored us (women) by making us to be the com- 
panions of their dearest excellences ; for the woman, that went 
before the man in the way of death, is commanded to follow him 
in the way of love ; and that makes the society to be perfect, 
and the union profitable, and the harmony complete." More- 
over he says, u A wife never can become equal but by obeying ; 
but so her power, while it is in minority, makes up the authority 
of the man integral, and becomes one government, as themselves 
are one man." " She that hath a wise husband, must entice 
him to an eternal dearness by the veil of modesty and the grave 
robes of chastity, the ornament of meekness, and the jewels of 
faith and charity ; she must have no coloring but blushings, her 
brightness must be purity, and she must shine round about with 
sweetnesses and friendship, and she shall be pleasant while she 
lives, and desired (lamented) when she dies."* It would have 
been wrong, not to have availed myself of the authority of this 
celebrated divine, whose sentiments are as excellent as his style 
is copious and happy. f 

SECTION II. 

The relation of parents and children is the next of the domes- 
tic relations in intimacy, and the mutual duties growing out of it 
are of the utmost importance. Children are universally felt to 
be the first hope and highest interest of their parents. They 
bear their names, reflect their qualities, and are destined to inherit 

* Sermons on the Wedding Ring. 

t See Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol. III. pp. 377-383. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 149 

their estates, when they shall be called away from the stage of 
life. In the order of nature, too, parents are to be laid in their 
final resting-place by the hands of their children, and the keep- 
ing of the reputation they have left behind them, is to be com- 
mitted to their guardianship. Parents look to their children for 
very much of their happiness in life, and as the chief source of 
their comfort in declining years. Moreover, children are the 
hope of the commonwealth, which looks to them for its future 
citizens ; and they are equally the hope of the church, which 
sees in them its future defenders, pillars, and ornaments. On the 
other hand, children are indebted to their parents for their ex- 
istence, for nurturing and cherishing their infancy, and where 
parental duties have been suitably performed, for their education, 
for giving them a right direction and settlement in life, and for 
bringing them forward advantageously on the stage of human 
affairs. 

1. The chief duties of parents to their children which it is 
necessary for me to notice are, then, education, in the most ex- 
tensive sense of that term, and including parental advice, — some 
aid in the settlement of them for life, — and the rightful and ju- 
dicious distribution by parents of their estates among their chil- 
dren at their death. 

Education embraces many objects besides the mere knowl- 
edge of books, however necessary and valuable this knowledge 
may be. Milton says, u I call a complete and generous educa- 
tion, that which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and mag- 
nanimously, all the offices, both private and public, of peace and 
war."* Dr. Watts understands the suitable education of chil- 
dren to consist in u the instruction of them in those things, 
which are necessary and useful for them in their rank and station, 
and that with regard to this world and the world to come."f 
But it may be well to be more particular. 

Every man, whatever walk of life he may pursue, requires a 
good constitution of body ; and very much of the attention of 
parents must be given, during a considerable number of the 

* Letter to Master Samuel Hartlib on Education, 
t Improvement of the Mind, p. 306. 



150 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Fart III. 

earliest years of their children, to their physical education, — 
to the unfolding, strengthening, and maturing of their physical 
powers, by suitable diet, air, and exercise. The usefulness and 
happiness of many a man has been destroyed, or greatly im- 
paired, by a feeble constitution of body entailed upon him by the 
neglect of his physical education. " Better is the poor," says 
the Son of Sirach, "being sound and strong of constitution, than 
a rich man that is afflicted in his body. Health and good estate 
of body are above all gold, and a strong body above infinite 
wealth. There is no riches above a sound body, and no joy 
above the joy of the heart. Death is better than a bitter, life, or 
continual sickness."* A constitution, firm and vigorous to 
withstand exposure, and proof against the ordinary inlets of dis- 
ease, is, in truth, of itself a fortune, and can only be obtained 
by inuring the body to the severe training of exercise, labor, and 
fatigue, in early youth. 

The formation of the manners, too, on which usefulness and 
happiness in life so much depend, is a part of what parents owe 
their children in the way of education. An early familiarity 
with the forms of social intercourse, an address uniting dignity 
with ease, confidence without arrogance, simplicity and natural- 
ness without rudeness, and refined cultivation without affectation, 
are of immense advantage in the intercourse with the world which 
every one must continually hold. A well-disciplined temper, 
and complete subjection of the appetites, passions, and affections 
to reason and conscience, are essential to personal comfort, to 
usefulness and to ordinary respectability, and should be the ob- 
ject of early parental solicitude and watchful care. Moral and 
religious impressions, or their opposite, are very early made on 
the minds of children, and the seeds of moral habits are very 
early sown, which grow up and bear fruit of a good or evil 
kind, in the joyful or disastrous increase of a hundred fold. An 
important part, too, of the moral education of children is, to guard 
them against injurious prejudices, antipathies, and prepossessions, 
and to enlist their affections and sympathies on the side of truth 
and duty. But a man's principles are the hasis of his character, — 

* Ecclesiastic us xxx. 14 - 17. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 151 

moral habits, without the sustaining and controlling aid and sup- 
port of principles are insecure, and, therefore, the habits- of 
children and youth should early be confirmed by imbuing them 
with sound moral and religious principles. 

Moreover, in an uncultivated state of society, almost every 
thing esteemed desirable is obtained by physical strength ; while, 
in enlightened times, and among cultivated nations, almost every 
thing valuable is the fruit of knowledge. Hence, at the present 
day, even in the humblest walks of life, considerable literary 
education is indispensable to success. Indeed, the term educa- 
tion, when used without qualification, is understood to mean 
(jpar excellence) literary education. On the importance attached 
to education in this most usual sense of the term, it would be 
entirely superfluous to enlarge. Its value is universally ac- 
knowledged ; there is no subject on which coincidence among 
men is more perfect and complete. Our schools, academies, 
colleges, and universities ; our libraries, public and private, are 
the best proof of this universal conviction. Every degree of 
education is valuable, and it is not necessary to say, that no 
child can be too well educated. Still, from the necessity of the 
case, the education of most children must be comparatively 
limited. And to aid parents in deciding what branches of 
knowledge shall be taught their children, it may be well to quote 
the saying of a distinguished ancient, who being asked what he 
had directed his children to be taught, replied, u Those things 
of which they will have need when they become men ;" * a 
text, containing much within a small compass, and on which a 
fruitful commentary might be written. 

Estimated by this standard, parents, even in the humblest 
spheres of life, ought not to be satisfied with themselves, with- 
out having their children taught the reading, writing, and gram- 
mar of their native language, arithmetic, some knowledge of the 
earth on which, and of the heavens beneath which they live, the 
elements of history in general, and of their own country in 
particular, the fundamental truths of Christian doctrine and 
morals, and the political constitution of their country. Boys 

* Plutarch, Apoth. Lacon., — quoted in Taylor's Civil Law, Preface, p.iii. 



J 52 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

destined for any of the trades, should be taught, besides the 
branches just mentioned, the elements of mechanics, natural 
philosophy, and chemistry. Girls are to be taught the useful 
branches, and ornamental accomplishments, which befit their sex, 
circumstances, and expectations in life. Mathematics and the 
classical languages must be the pillars of the education of youths 
designed for the three great learned professions ; and those 
who make general literature and the sciences their profession, 
must swell their treasures with the contributions of every age, 
country, and nation. 

The parents' duty of teaching their children, is usually dele- 
gated to private or public professional instructers, under the gen- 
eral superintendence of the parents themselves. When invested 
with this responsible trust, instructers are in loco parentis (in 
the place of the parent) so far as the special object of the trust 
is concerned ; the parental duty becomes the just measure of 
their duty, and they ought to assume as much of the parental 
feeling and interest as possible. The standard of good conduct 
in a teacher, is the same by which a good, wise, and judicious 
parent is guided in the management and instruction of his chil- 
dren. With this duty, too, the rights of the parents over their 
children, so far as is necessary to the discharge of the duty, are 
transferred to the instructer. The relation of guardian and ward 
is another substitute for the parental relation, instituted to supply 
its place, however imperfectly, in case of the death, insanity, or 
other disability of one or both parents. In assuming the relation, 
the guardian undertakes to perform the parental duties, and be- 
comes invested with the rights of the parents. 

It is equally the right and the duty of parents, during the 
earlier years of their children, to control them, and to subject 
them to discipline within the bounds of a reasonable discretion. 
The sacred writers consider government among the most indis- 
pensable duties of parents, and more than one of them has no- 
ticed the want of it as among the most common causes of the 
ruin of children and the overthrow of families.* The wisest of 
men says, " He that spareth his rod hateth his son ; but he that 

* 1 Samuel iii. 13; Proverbs xix. 18; xxix. 15. 



Chap. L] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 153 

loveth him chasteneth him betimes."* Again, " Correct thy 
son, and he shall give thee rest ; yea, he shall give delight unto 
thy soul."f See especially Hebrews, xii. 6 - 11, where St. 
Paul concludes thus, " No chastening for the present seemeth 
to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth 
the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exer- 
cised thereby." { 

In the present relaxed state of domestic discipline, I can only 
cite these precepts on the ground of their being divinely sanc- 
tioned. They must wear an air of strictness and severity, to 
which, in these days, we are not accustomed. As a writer on 
morals, however, I have no choice. My duty is, to make truth 
the burthen of my instructions ; — these precepts are not mine^ 
they are a part of the oracles of divine truth. § Even the precept, 

* Prov. xiii. 24. t Prov. xxix. 17. % See also Rev. iii. 19. 

§ The following extract from a very valuable work, with which the author was 
not until lately acquainted, contains sentiments so well calculated, in his judg- 
ment, to be useful at the present time, that he has determined to subjoin it. 

" That good sense," says the writer, " which forms the sole basis of a system 
of education composed for the age of Locke," (he had been speaking of Locke's 
writings on education,) " is a material of too common and too coarse a nature 
for the fabric of those refined and subtile theories, which are fitted to engage 
the attention of an age, where the new, the striking, and the brilliant are alone 
admired and sought after. Rousseau, in an evil hour, vented his paradoxes on 
education ; — the man who sent his own children to the foundling hospital, and 
who failed, as he owns himself, in the only trial he made to educate the child of 
another. But he knew that a singularity of opinion was the sure road to dis- 
tinction as an author ; and he determined to frame a theory, which should in 
every thing be opposite to the common notions of mankind. His organs, as he 
tells us, were so formed, and his mind so constituted, as to render him incapa- 
ble of thinking and judging like other people : ' Je ne vois point comme les 
autres homines ; il y a long temps qu'on me l'a reproche ; mais depend-il de 
moi de me donner d'autres yeux, et de m'afFecter d'autres idees ? ' (Preface 
d'Emile.) And feeling and reasoning, as he acknowledges, like no other man, he 
has the modesty to presume, that he alone is right, and all the rest of the world 
in an error. The ordinary methods of education (according to him) are all 
completely wrong ; the very opposite course to the common is almost always 
the right one. ' Prenez le contrepied de l'usage, et vous ferez presque toujours 
bien.' (Emile, Tom. I. p. 130.) Thus, because the influence of habit, one of 
the most powerful principles of our nature, is universally resorted to in the or- 
dinary systems of education, this is sufficient reason with Rousseau for utter- 
ly exploding its application ; ' Habits,' says he, ' ought not to be impressed on 
children ; for they restrain the natural freedom of the mind ; — La seule habi- 
tude qu'on doit laisser prendre a l'enfant, est de n'en contracter aucune.' 

20 



154 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

" Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old 
he will not depart from it," * implies both the right and the duty 
of parents to train him up in the right way. In truth, the father 
of a family is made responsible for all the sin, which it is in his 
power to prevent, within his domestic circle. Abraham is com- 
mended for " commanding his children and his household after 
him to keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judgment." f 
Joshua resolved, both for himself and his house, to serve the 
Lord ; j' and the house of Eli was destroyed with an overwhelm- 
ing destruction, " for the iniquity which he 'knew" says the 
sacred historian, "because his sons made themselves vile, and 

(Idem, Tom. I. p. 62.) The enforcement of the parent's or the tutor's author- 
ity, and the obedience of the child, is generally supposed the most essential and 
primary step to be gained. 'No,' says Rousseau ; ' authority and obedience are 
servile principles, fitted only to make slaves and tyrants. Never cross your pu- 
pil in any thing, and then you will be sure to see him such as he is; when you 
suffer children to act as they please, their own mistakes will sufficiently correct 
them ; — Sans lui defendre de mal faire, n'offrez jamais a ses volontes indis- 
crettes que des obstacles physiques, ou des punitions qui naissent des actions 
memes, et qu'il se rapelle dans l'occasion.' (Idem, Tom. I. p. 110.) It has been 
o-enerally supposed, that the surest hold of the mind of a child is gained, by 
persuading him, that your precepts are reasonable. ' Never reason at all with a 
child,' says Rousseau ; ' he cannot understand you ; if he were capable of rea- 
soning, he would have no need of education ; by using argument, you only 
teach him to be satisfied with words instead of ideas, and make him disputatious 
and self-sufficient ; — C'est commencer par la fin. Si les enfans entendoient rai- 
son, ils n'auroient pas besoin d'etre eleves. C'est les accoutumer a. se payer 
de mots, a controller tout ce qu'on leur dit, a. se croire aussi sages que leurs mai- 
tres.' (Idem, Tom. I. p. 120.) As our early impressions are the most lasting, 
it has been usually thought of consequence to instil into the infant mind the 
first great principles of religion ; — ' What,' says Rousseau, ' would you make 
your son the creature of prejudice ? Leave his mind to its own operations; and, 
when he is capable of distinguishing between truth and error, he will choose a 
religion for himself. At fifteen, my pupil does not know that he has a soul; 
and perhaps it is early enough, if he gains that piece of knowledge at eighteen.' 
(Idem, Tom. II. p. 215.) It might naturally be supposed, that the bare state- 
ment of such paradoxes were sufficient to expose their absurdity ; if experi- 
ence did not prove, that there is no doctrine too wild and extravagant for the 
caprices of the human intellect ; and the opinions of Rousseau, defended with 
the most ingenious sophistry, and varnished with the most fascinating elo- 
quence, have had an extensive and pernicious influence on vain and superficial 
minds. 

" But to the public in general, Rousseau had shown, that the subject of edu- 

* Prov. xxii. 6. t Genesis xviii. 19. % Joshua xxiv. 15. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 155 

he restrained them not."* St. Paul says, moreover, that u a 
bishop must be one that ruleth well his own house, having his 
children in subjection with all gravity ; for," he subjoins, " if a 
man know not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care 
of the church of God."f At the same time, parents are to 
govern their children equitably, wisely, kindly, and affectionate- 
ly. u Fathers provoke not your children to wrath, but bring 
them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." J 

As children approach the age of discretion, this parental right 
of control and discipline is softened down into a right of advising 
and counselling them. The wisest of men held this right of pa- 
rental counsel and advice in the highest estimation, as is manifest 
from the frequency with which he adverts to It. § Indeed, no 
small part of the Proverbs of Solomon is in the form of parental 
advice and counsel, given to the young on the chief dangers, which 
beset their way, and against which they need to be guarded, by 
reason of the strength of their passions and their want of expe- 
rience. The author is not satisfied with commending wisdom in 
the abstract to the young, in the most persuasive and moving 
terms, — he does much more ; the blandishments of " the strange 

cation admitted of much variety of sentiment ; that it was a rich field for nov- 
elty and ingenuity of thought ; and that, with these recommendations, the im- 
portance of the object would insure attention to whatever was plausibly and 
ingeniously written in that department. New systems of education, controver- 
sial treatises in support and refutation of these systems, and books for the in- 
struction of children, framed on all their opposite principles, now issued from 
the press in endless succession. The infant man seemed to be regarded as a 
subject of perpetual experiment, on which every daring empiric was at liberty 
to try the effect of his alterative processes, his stimulant or his sedative medi- 
cines, as his fancy prompted. In some of these systems, the primary engine 
with the parent or preceptor is deceit. A child is to be cheated into every 
thing ; he is to be wheedled into learning under the mask of play ; into obedi- 
ence, under the appearance of following his own inclination ; and, by a variety 
of artful contrivances and well-laid plots, he is to be slily trepanned into virtue 
and good morals. According to an opposite theory, nature is to be the sole 
guide, and the province of the parent or tutor is, not to give impressions, but 
to guard against them," &c. (Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Lord 
Kames, by Alexander Fraser Tytler (Lord Woodhouselee), Vol.11, pp. 286- 
292.) I might quote several pages more from this writer, equally interesting, 
if my limits permitted. 

* 1 Samuel iii. 13. t 1 Timothy hi. 4, 5. \ Eph. vi. 4 : Col. iii. 21. 

§ See Proverbs, passim. 



156 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

woman, subtile of heart, whose house is the way to hell, going 
down to the chambers of death ; " * the importunities and craft 
of the wicked of every kind, the enticements of wine and strong 
drink, the seductions of sloth, the value of industry and integrity, 
the opposite ways and end of the righteous and of the wicked, 
the use and abuse of the tongue, the sins of pride, avarice, fraud, 
and oppression, are all spread out as on a map before the young, 
by this author ; — so that, to use his own illustration, if, amid such 
advice and counsel, the young man is still so much without dis- 
cretion as to be caught, he is as simple as the bird caught in the 
snare which itself has seen spread before its own eyes.f 

The right of parental advice is especially important in regard 
to two particulars on which the welfare and happiness of children 
very much depend ; to wit, the choice of the employment they 
are to pursue in life, — and the connexions in marriage which 
they are disposed to form. In both these particulars, parental 
advice, timely and judiciously given, may be of the greatest 
benefit. 

Where there is nothing to prevent, reasons of convenience 
will lead the sons to pursue the employment, which their father 
has pursued before them. This is the natural course and ten- 
dency of things, and it is probable that nine sons in ten engage 
in the employment of their father. But sometimes this is incon- 
venient, unsuitable, and otherwise undesirable. In giving advice, 
the physical endowments of the son, his natural genius and tem- 
per, his education, the circumstances of the times, the natural 
tendencies and probable effects of the employment or profession, 
and, most of all, his own inclination, should be consulted and 
kept fully in view. Children seldom do well in an employment 
into which they have been forced or over-persuaded. If their 
partialities are gratified in this most important of all their inter- 
ests, the choice of their profession, they feel themselves to be 
thrown upon their own responsibility, and to be committed, in 
honor to their parents, to justify the choice they have made by 
their good conduct and success. It is all-important, that they 
should feel the full force of this personal responsibility ; it is the 

* Prov. vii. 5. 10, 27. t Prov. i. 17. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 157 

chief encouragement and spring of the excellence at which every 
youth ought to aim. Without this self-responsible feeling, this 
self-reliance, this main spring of the character, as it may be called, 
a high standard of excellence will not often be attained. Any 
interference on the part of parents beyond mere suggestions, ad- 
vice given in a spirit of moderation and candor, and informa- 
tion which, by reason of their youth and inexperience, they can- 
not have had the means of obtaining for themselves, impairs, if 
it does not destroy, this self-reliance and self-responsibility ; and 
indifference to the attainment of excellence, discouragement, 
broken hopes, and ultimate failure are the too common conse- 
quences. The more delicately and judiciously, and in general 
the more indirectly, this right of advice is used, in influencing a 
son's choice of his profession, the more beneficial will be its 
effect. Much more, too, depends on the manner in which the 
advice is given, than on the advice itself. 

The same observations, in substance, apply to the other par- 
ticular, on which the advice and counsel of parents is usually 
supposed to be most valuable, — the marriage connexions which 
their children may be inclined to form. There should be the 
same delicacy of interference, and the same caution not to im- 
pair the self-reliance and personal responsibility, on which I have 
before enlarged. And it must not be forgotten, that, in this most 
intimate of all human relations, so much of the happiness of the 
parties depends on their personal preference of one another, that 
any but the most delicate and cautious interference must be at- 
tended with the utmost hazard of great and enduring evil. Still 
there may be cases, both in the choice of a profession and in 
the forming of marriage connexions, in which the direct and de- 
cisive interference of parents is justifiable, and may be useful. 
Such are extreme cases ; no minuteness of remark or description 
can reach them, and they must be acted on according to the best 
judgment of the parents under the peculiar circumstances. 

But the duty of parents towards their children is not finished, 
when they have given them maintenance, education, advice in 
the choice of a profession, and aid in qualifying themselves for 
the pursuit of it. Without some outfit with which to begin, a 
young man will find it extremely difficult to make his way in the 



158 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

world. The competition of other persons just entering the 
same branch of business with himself, and, still more, of those 
well established in it, must be met ; experience must be acquired, 
and the confidence of the public, always slowly and reluctantly 
given, must be secured. These remarks apply particularly to 
the case of sons ; but I believe it may be said with great truth, 
that even a daughter acquires additional dignity and respect in 
the eyes of her husband, if she brings something to the common 
stock with which they are to begin the world. 

In discharging this duty of aiding their children, the ability of 
parents must be consulted, and of course, the duty itself, as in 
all other cases, must be limited by the ability to discharge it. 
When the ability is not wanting, the aim of the parents should 
be, to give aid enough to encourage, without relaxing, the 
personal exertions, or impairing the self-reliance, of their chil- 
dren. A strong conviction of the necessity of self-reliance and 
personal endeavours, combined with sufficient parental aid to 
stimulate and encourage, is the most desirable and promising 
outfit in life. 

It is sometimes alleged, that parental aid in the outset of life is 
of no advantage ; and, to sustain this opinion, those instances are 
cited in which young men, who began life with a large outfit, 
have been overtaken and outstripped in their career of usefulness, 
honor, and success, by those who began life with no other aid 
than a parental blessing, a good conscience, hope in Heaven, 
and free opportunity on earth. Without delaying to discuss 
this question, it may be observed, that both these classes of 
persons attract our special attention. In the latter we admire 
the ardor, firmness, and perseverance, which have carried them 
through so many discouragements ; but, in our admiration, we 
forget how many young men of the best promise, sink under the 
difficulties which beset their way, and, for the want of a little 
encouragement, come to a premature death, and bury their 
blasted hopes and expectations in the same grave with themselves. 
If some fail by setting out in life with too much aid, it is proba- 
ble that a manifold greater number are ruined for want of some 
timely aid.* 

* See 2 Corinthians xii. 14. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 159 

It is the duty of parents, in making arrangements for the dis- 
tribution of their estates, at their death, to have special regard 
to the exigencies of their children's situation. If a child has 
been successful in business, and has amply provided for himself, 
or is otherwise well provided for, there is no reason why further 
provision should be made for him. But success does not always 
attend on merit ; and the less successful members of a family are 
they, who, provided they are deserving, are fairly entitled to be 
provided for in the will of the parents. The claims of married 
daughters, in this respect, are to be placed on the same footing 
with those of sons ; but the case of single daughters is peculiar, 
and deserves more than a passing notice. Especially, a daugh- 
ter who is single, and who from age, personal defects, or other 
circumstances, may be expected to remain so, may justly claim 
a more than ordinary share of the anxiety and solicitude of 
parents. There are almost no lucrative employments in which 
ladies can honorably engage, and for these they may be unquali- 
fied ; it must, therefore, be one of the first wishes of a good 
parent's heart to secure to a single daughter a comfortable and 
honorable independence. There may be children in a family 
afflicted with idiocy or alienation of mind. Of course, these 
must take precedence of all the other children in their claim 
upon the parental estate. A parent may rightfully disinherit a 
child in extreme cases ; — but for these no definite rule can be 
prescribed.* 

2. The duty of children to honor their parents is made the 
subject of the fifth commandment ; and from its being thus 
ranked with the duty of worshipping one God and him only, and 
with the obligation to respect the life, chastity, and property 
of our neighbours, we may well infer its importance. " Honor 
thy father and thy mother," says St. Paul, " which is the first 
commandment with promise." f The promise, when amplified by 
St. Paul, is, u that it may be well with thee, and that thou mayest 
live long on the earth." J The term "honor," is admirably 
chosen, comprising, as it does, affection, respect, obedience, and 

* See Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol. III. p. 366, 367. 
t Ephesians vi. 2. X Idem vi. 3. 



160 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

whatever else can contribute to the comfort and gratification of 
parents. A long and prosperous life is promised to children 
who render this honor to their parents, a reward more earnestly 
and universally coveted by mankind, than riches, beauty, glory, 
or any other object which they are accustomed to desire. And 
that God, in his providence, is accustomed to fulfil this promise 
in its literal import, has been believed by many persons who 
have had enlarged experience and extensive opportunities of 
observing human affairs.* Dr. Dwight says, " No small meas- 
ure of prosperity seems ordinarily interwoven with a course of 
filial piety. The comfort which it insures to parents, the har- 
mony which it produces in the family, the peace which it yields 
to the conscience, are all essential ingredients of happiness. 
To these," continues he, u it adds the approbation of every be- 
holder, the possession of a fair and lasting reputation ; the con- 
fidence and good* will of every worthy man ; and of consequence, 
an opportunity of easily gaining those useful employments which 
worthy men have to give. Beyond this, it naturally associates 
with itself that temperance, moderation, and sobriety, which 
furnish a solid foundation for health and long life. On the tide 
of Providence, multiplied blessings are borne into its posses- 
sion, at seasons when they are unexpected, in ways unforeseen, 
and by means unprovided by its own forecast, which are often 
of high importance ; which altogether constitute a rich propor- 
tion of prosperity, and which usually are not found by persons 
of a contrary character."! I ma y a dd, tnat tne practice of the 
moral virtues, to which the honoring of parents naturally leads 
the way, contributes to health and length of life, at least as much 
as air, climate, local situation, and other physical circumstances 
on which we more habitually rely. 

Again, St. Paul says, " Children, obey your parents in the 
Lord, for this is right. Obey your parents in all things, for this 
is well pleasing unto the Lord.":]: It may be well to expand 
the apostolic injunctions into two or three particulars. 

Children are required to regard their parents with special 

* See Dwight's Theology, Vol. IV. p. 98. t Ibidem. 

X Ephesians vi, 1 ; Colossians iii. 20. 



Chap. L] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 161 

affection, respect, and reverence. They are to remember and 
regard their parents as standing in the most venerable, and the 
most endearing of all earthly relations to them ; as those to 
whom, under God, they owe every thing they are, and every 
thing they hope to be. They are to regard them as the persons 
to whose kindness, care, and government, they have been com- 
mitted by God himself. They are to consider them as the 
most affectionate, the most faithful, the most confidential, the 
most persevering, the most watchful, and the most disinterested 
of friends.* 

Again, children, during their early years, are to render their 
parents a prompt and cheerful obedience ; and, when they come 
to years of discretion, and indeed, at every period of life, to 
manifest a marked respect for their persons, regard for their ad- 
vice, and deference to their wishes. Disobedience to parents is 
ranked by St. Paul with, envy, malignity, deceit, and even with 
murder and destitution of natural affection, f It is in the order 
of nature for parents to command, and for children to obey. 
No conduct, perhaps, is more severely denounced in Scrip- 
ture, than disobedience and disrespect to parents. | 

Moreover, children are to give their parents the solace and 
comfort of their conversation and company, when, in the order 
of nature, they are visited with the decay and manifold infirmities 
of declining years. Parents have watched over the helplessness, 
and borne with the infirmities of their children, when in their in- 
fancy ; and it is but the reciprocal duty of their children, to watch 
over the decline, and sustain the sinking spirits of their parents, 
when, as the wisest of men says, " the evil days come, and the 
years draw nigh in which they can have no pleasure in them."§ 

Furthermore, children are sacredly bound in conscience to 
meet, as far as possible, the expectations formed of them by their 
parents, in after life ; by which alone they can make a full return 
for the care, the expense, and the anxieties which their nurture 
has cost their parents. Writers of all ages, and of all countries, 
have taught us, with a united voice, that, in the eye of all man- 

* Dwight's Theology, Vol. IV. p. 87. t Romans i. 29-31. 

t Deuteronomy xxi. 18-21 ; Proverbs xxx. 17. § Ecclesiastes xii. 1. 

21 



162 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part 111. 

kind, no objects can be more amiable or more delightful than 
dutiful and virtuous children, who, in after life, fulfil the promise 
of their early years. This, and this alone, is honoring their 
parents in the full meaning of that term, — and this alone is 
rendering to parents the true li pretia nascendi" of the classical 
writers. u He who," says Dr. Brown, " in the fulfilment of 
every filial duty, has obeyed as a son should obey, and loved as 
a son should love, may not, indeed, with all his obedience and 
affection, have been able to return an amount of benefit equal to 
that which he has received ; but, in being thus virtuous, he has 
at least made the return that is most grateful to a virtuous parent's 
heart. He has not been unsuccessful in that contest of mutual 
love, in which, as Seneca truly says, " it is happy to conquer, 
and happy to be overcome." * 

SECTION III. 

OF BROTHERS, SISTERS, AND MORE REMOTE RELATIONS. 

The more remote domestic relations, whether of consanguinity, 
(blood ,) or affinity, (marriage,) are also worthy of being re- 
spected and carefully cherished. In regard to the brothers and 
sisters of the same household especially, two particulars ought 
to attract and receive notice and illustration. 

1. This relation furnishes the natural occasions of permanent 
friendships and intimacies, which, in after life, soften the cares, 
relieve the anxieties, enlarge the sphere of enjoyment, and often 
contribute to the success and usefulness of life itself. The 
recollections of the brothers and sisters of the same family, if the 
circumstances of their birth and nurture have been but ordinarily 
favorable, must be a bond, in all after life, of the strongest mutual 
sympathy, interest, and attachment. Their remembrances of one 
another go back even to the caresses and endearments of the 
nursery, in which their infant pains, vexations, and peevishness 
were soothed by the same gentle voice of maternal tenderness 
and love, — in which they were taught to lisp their earliest 

* Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol. III. pp. 372, 373. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS 163 

prayers, — in which their first discontents and murmurings were 
hushed, — and in which their childish pastimes were, in common, 
shared and enjoyed. Again, the rude sports, frolics, and ad- 
ventures of the neighbouring school, in which they have mingled 
with the keenest zest, with its early trials, competitions, mortifi- 
cations, and successes, must ever be subjects of the most vivid 
mutual reminiscences and sympathies. They have had, too, a 
common interest in every event which has befallen them, and in 
every person who has excited either their regard or aversion ; — 
they have honored with a common honor those to whom, by the 
commandment, filial honor was due ; and, perhaps, have mourned 
with a common grief over the remains of one or both of those, 
whose death has been to them the most poignant and lasting of 
all their sorrows. When one member of the common household 
has suffered, all the other members have suffered with him. 
Their paths, moreover, however different in after life, were once 
the same. Each can witness to what each learned from a father's 
anxious counsels, and each can respond to the other's remem- 
brance of the ever-varying, never-ceasing expressions of mater- 
nal kindness. Each can speak of the other's early associates ; 
each can recall to the memory of the others, whatever, in the 
fresh spring season of life, made the parental home joyous or 
sorrowful ; the farewell and the return ; the plans for the de- 
parting, and the intelligence from the distant ; the success and 
congratulation, the disappointment and sympathy ; the honored 
guest, and the habitual inmate ; the health and the sickness ; the 
bereavement and the blessing ; the festive entertainment, and the 
funeral mourning. These common pains, joys, sorrows, endear- 
ments, and sympathies of the early years of children of the same 
family, are, I may well repeat, the natural occasions of intimate 
and permanent friendships in all after life.* 

2. The relation of brothers and sisters of the same family, 
furnishes much more than the natural occasions, — it furnishes 
the natural foundation, of permanent intimacies and friendships. 
They sustain a common relation to common parents, to whom 
each renders one of the most acceptable of all services, by ex- 



See Dr. Palfrey's Sermons, p. 327, 



164 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

tending his affection to those with whom he is united by the ties 
of so intimate a relationship. In reviewing the circumstances 
which tend to strengthen this tie, Cicero adverts even to the 
common sepulchre, that is at last to enclose the bodies of the 
members of the same family.* It is a touching reflection, that 
the bonds of affection and concord among members of the same 
family, should derive strength from the common receptacle which 
is destined at last to contain their mortal remains. It is an af- 
fecting image and symbol, by which domestic unanimity and 
harmony are powerfully taught. Every dissension of man with 
man excites in us a feeling of painful incongruity. But we feel 
that there is a peculiar incongruity in the discord of those whose 
interests are indissolubly the same, whom one roof has protected 
during life, and whose dust is at length to be mingled in a com- 
mon tomb.f 

The duties of brotherhood and sisterhood, then, are the duties 
of a cordial intimacy and friendship, rendered more sacred by 
their common relationship to the parents from whom they have 
sprung, and to whom they owe common duties, as they have 
been the objects of common hopes, cares, labors, and anxieties. 
A brother has large resources in a brother's attachment ; a sis- 
ter in a sister's. The mutual relation they bear, and the fact, 
that, the prosperity of the household being a common cause, the 
honor or shame, the success or failure, of any member of it 
concerns the rest, — authorize each to interest himself with the 
other by advice and remonstrance, or for him by interference 
with yet other persons. Moreover, each knows the other's char- 
acter and history, his advantages and encouragements, deficiences 
and dangers. A brother, therefore, can enter fully into a broth- 
er's feelings, — a sister into a sister's; and thus their mutual 
kindness may usually be better directed, more seasonable, and in 
various ways more acceptable, and their sympathy, advice, or 
aid more profitable, than that of other friends. 

A difference, in certain respects, has been remarked between 
the affection of a brother and sister for one another, and that 
which subsists between a brother for a brother, and a sister for a 



* De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 17. t Brown's Philosophy. Vol. III. pp. 374, 375. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 165 

sister. In truth "the relation of brother and sister to one an- 
other, is one of the most beautiful which Providence has insti- 
tuted ; forbidding, from the different pursuits of the two sexes, 
any thing of that rivalry and interference, which is so often the 
bane of friendship among other equals, and without the possibility 
of the sentiment being tainted with any alloy of passion ; finding 
scope for that peculiar tenderness, strength, and trustingness of 
attachment, which belong to the relation of delicacy, dependence, 
and retirement on the one part, to energy, self-reliance, and en- 
terprise on the other. Nothing is more delightful than to wit- 
ness this relation sustained, as God, when he arranged it, de- 
signed that it should be. A mutual confidence and esteem, and 
sense of privilege in each other's regard, evinced and renewed 
in every daily communication ; the siste/ watching the brother's 
growing virtues and consequence with a modest pride, while she 
checks his adventurousness with her well-timed scruples, and 
finds for him a way to look more cheerfully on his defects, — 
the brother, looking on the sister's graces with a fondness that 
would be like a parent's, only that it is gayer, more confident, 
and more given to expression, and studying with ambitious assi- 
duity to requite the gentle guidance to which his impetuous spirit 
delights to yield itself ; the one zealous and constant in all ac- 
ceptable kindnesses, in her secluded sphere, which God has 
given her an intuitive sagacity to invent ; the other delighting to 
communicate all means of improvement, which his different op- 
portunities of education have prepared him to offer ; the one 
gratefully conscious of a protection as watchful as it will be 
prompt and firm ; the other of an interested love, which, wheth- 
er in silence or in words, can speak his praises the most moving- 
ly, where he may most desire to have them spoken. Is any 
thing in the relations appointed by Him, who for wise and kind 
ends ' hath set the solitary in families,' more delightful to wit- 
ness, than such a brotherly and sisterly devotion ? If there 
be, it is what remains to be added to the picture. It is seen, 
when they who are thus united make the younger members of 
their band a common care, and turn back to offer the gentle and 
encouraging hand of a love more discreet than that of mere 
equals, and more familiar than the parental, to lead their childish, 



166 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

unpractised steps along that path of filial piety, of fraternal union 
and religious wisdom, which themselves, walking together in it, 
have found throughout a way of such pleasantness and peace." # 

The general duty of cherishing the more remote domestic re- 
lations which we sustain, has been before adverted to, and noth- 
ing seems to call for any considerable enlargement on this part of 
the subject. Without any specific causes of alienation, it is in- 
evitable, in the natural course of events, that families, as they 
branch off from the parent stock, should be gradually more and 
more withdrawn from the society, influence, neighbourhood, and 
consequently sympathy of each other, led by interest, ambition, 
the love of change, and other inducements. This breaking up 
of the ties of kindred, however, and scattering of kindred fami- 
lies, will always depend very much on the condition of society, 
and on the importance of mutual aid. 

In a state of society in which the protection of law is feeble, 
and it is necessary, in consequence, for many to unite in the com- 
mon defence, the families that spring from the same original con- 
tinue to cling to each other for aid, almost as if they lived under 
the same roof. It is, in fact, one wide-spread family, rather than 
a number of families ; the history of the clan, in its most remote 
years of warfare and victory, is the history of each individual of 
the clan ; and the mere remembrance of the exploits of those 
who fought with one common object, around their common rep- 
resentative and ancestor, is like the feeling of the paternal or 
filial relation itself, prolonged from age to age ; while the affec- 
tion thus flowing from the remembrance of other years is contin- 
ually strengthened by a sense of the important services, which 
each individual is still able to render to the whole on occasions of 
similar peril. 

In other circumstances of society, the necessity of this mutual 
aid is obviated by the happier protection of equal law ; and, ob- 
jects of new ambition separating the little community into fami- 
lies, that have their own peculiar interests, with little if any 
necessity for reciprocal assistance, the duty of giving such assist- 

* I am indebted for this beautiful paragraph to " Sermons on the Conditions 
and Relations of Private Life," by Dr. Palfrey, Professor of Biblical Literature 
in Harvard University ; p. 333. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 167 

ance is at once less important, and no longer receives any aid 
from the powerful circumstances of association, which in a dif- 
ferent state of manners, rendered the most distant relative an 
object of almost sacred regard.* 

" It is not many years ago," says Dr. Adam Smith, " that, in 
the Highlands of Scotland, the chieftain used to consider the 
poorest man of his clan as his cousin and relation. The same ex- 
tensive regard to kindred is said to take place among the Tartars, 
the Arabs, the Turkomans, and I believe among all other nations 
who are nearly in the same state of society in which the Scots 
Highlanders were about the beginning of the present (eighteenth) 
century. In commercial countries," continues he, " where the 
authority of law is always perfectly sufficient to protect the 
meanest man in the State, the descendants of the same family, 
having no such motive for keeping together, naturally separate 
and disperse, as interest or inclination may direct. They soon 
cease to be of importance to one another ; and, in a few genera- 
tions, not only lose all care about one another, but all remem- 
brance of their common origin, and of the connexion which took 
place among their ancestors. Regard for remote relations be- 
comes, in every country, less and less according as this state 
of civilization has been longer and more completely established. 
It has been longer and more completely established in England 
than in Scotland ; and remote relations are, accordingly, more 
considered in the latter country than in the former, though, in this 
respect, the difference between the two countries is growing less 
and less every day. 

"Great lords, indeed, are, in every country, proud of re- 
membering and acknowledging their connexion with one another, 
however remote. The remembrance of such illustrious relations 
flatters not a little the family pride of them all ; and it is neither 
from affection, nor from any thing which resembles affection, but 
from the most frivolous and childish of all vanities, that this re- 
membrance is so carefully kept up. Should some more humble, 
though perhaps nearer kinsman, presume to put such great men 
in mind of his relation to their family, they seldom fail to tell 

* Brown's Philosophy, Vol. III. p. 375. 



168 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

him, that they are bad genealogists, and miserably ill-informed 
concerning their own family history. It is not in that order, I 
am afraid," concludes this beautiful writer, " that we are to 
expect any extraordinary extension of what is called natural af- 
fection."* 



SECTION IV. 

RELATION OF MASTER AND SERVANT. 

The last of the domestic relations, the moral duties of which 
I am to explain and illustrate, is that of master and servant. 
Servants have been reckoned a part of the families of their mas- 
ters from the earliest times, f and the relation has been familiar in 
every country. Servants have always comprehended no small 
portion of the entire human race ; — their very number, there- 
fore, among other circumstances, gives them a strong claim 
to the notice of the moral philosopher. And it may be re- 
marked, that there is scarcely any one of the relations of life, 
the duties of which between the respective parties, are more 
clearly defined, or more fully insisted on, by the sacred writers, 
than in the case of master and servant. 

u Servants, obey in all things your masters according to the 
flesh ; not with eye-service, as men-pleasers ; but in singleness 
of heart, fearing God. And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, 
as to the Lord and not unto men ; knowing, that of the Lord ye 
shall receive the reward of the inheritance ; for ye serve the 
Lord Christ. But he that doeth wrong shall receive for the 
wrong which he hath done; and there is no respect of per- 
sons." J Again, St. Paul says, " Exhort servants to be obedient 
unto their own masters, and to please them well in all things ; 
not answering again ; not purloining, but showing all good fidel- 
ity ; that they may adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all 
things." § And again, " Let as many servants as are under the 
yoke, count their own masters worthy of all honor, that the name 
of God and his doctrine be not blasphemed. And they that 

* Theory of Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. pp. 25-29. 

I Gen. xxiv. 2, 5, 27, 34, &c. X Col. iii. 22-25. § Titus ii. 9, 10. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 169 

have believing masters, let them not despise them, because they 
are brethren ; but rather do them service, because they are faith- 
ful and beloved, partakers of the benefit. These things teach 
and exhort."* " Servants, be subject to your masters with all 
fear ; not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward ; f 
for this is thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God 
endure grief, suffering wrongfully. Let every man abide in the 
same calling wherein he was called. Art thou called, being a 
servant ? Care not for it, but if thou mayest be made free, use 
it rather. For he that is called in the Lord, being a servant, is 
the Lord's freeman." { Still again St. Paul says, "Servants, 
be obedient to them that are your masters according to the flesh, 
with fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto 
Christ ; not. with eye-service, as men-pleasers ; but as the ser- 
vants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart ; with 
good-will doing service, as to the Lord and not to man. Know- 
ing that whatsoever good thing any man doeth, the same shall he 
receive of the Lord, whether he be bond or free." § 

cc And ye masters, do the same things unto them," continues 
St. Paul, u forbearing threatening; knowing that your master 
also is in heaven ; neither is there respect of persons with 
him." Again St. Paul says, " Masters, give unto your ser- 
vants that which is just and equal,lf knowing that ye also have a 
master in heaven."** 

Servants are of several kinds, distinguished by their employ- 
ments, or by other circumstances in their condition. Mr. Reeve 
enumerates "five kinds. "ff But into however many classes 
they may be divided, the apostolic instructions are alike applica- 
ble to them all. They are to obey their masters in singleness 
of heart, and to please them, not rendering them eye-service, 
doing their business heartily, without purloining or answering 
again, being faithful to their masters, and counting them worthy 
of all honor, contented with their calling, — that they may adorn 
the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things. And masters are 

* 1 Tim. vi. 1, 2. t 1 Peter ii. 18,19. t 1 Cor. vii. 20-22. 

§ Eph. vi. 5-8. (j Eph. vi. 9. 

IT " Servis justa praebenda," says Cicero, De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 13. 
** Col.iv. 1. tf Domestic Relations, p. 239. 

22 



170 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

to do their corresponding duties, remembering that there is no 
respect of persons with God. They are not only to forbear 
threatening, but to give their servants a just and equitable share 
of the conveniences and comforts of life, according to the pro- 
ceeds of their labor, always keeping in mind, that they also have 
a Master in heaven, to whom they are responsible for their beha- 
viour in this relation, which is so liable to be abused, and the 
duties of which are so liable to be neglected. 

A division of servants into three, instead of five classes, is 
sufficiently accurate for my present purpose. 1. Apprentices. 
2. Servants who become such by their own contract. 3. " Ser- 
vants born in the house, or bought with the money," of their 
master.* 

I. Apprentices are persons bound to a master, to learn some 
art or trade. They may be bound to learn the trade of husband- 
ry as well as any other. Apprentices are usually bound to their 
masters by their parents or guardians ; and they are bound, that 
the apprentice perform that which they contract he shall do. 
Whatever wages an apprentice earns, belong to the master ; 
and, if an apprentice should leave his master, and earn wages and 
receive them, and purchase any thing with them, it would be- 
long to the master. The right, which the master acquires to the 
service of his apprentice, cannot be rightfully assigned to another 
person. It is incompatible with the nature of the contract, which 
implies special confidence reposed in the master. The master 
is one in whom the parent of the apprentice has such confidence, 
as induces him to place his child under his care. It is a person- 
al trust, which cannot in any case be assigned to another. And 
as it is a personal trust, if the master dies, the executor cannot 
retain the apprentice. The trust dies with the master, for there 
is no probability that the executor will be able to instruct the 
apprentice in his trade. f Apprentices, too, are to be employed 
entirely in the profession or trade which it is intended they shall 
learn. Instruction is their wages ; and to deprive them of the 
opportunities of instruction, by taking up their time with occu- 

* Genesis xiv. 14; xvii. 12. 

t Reeve's Domestic Relations, pp. 341 -345. 



Chap. I.]. THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 171 

pations foreign to their business, is to defraud them of their 



wages.* 



2. Servants by their own contract. The master's authority 
over this class of servants extends no further than the terms, or 
equitable construction, of the contract will justify. Their treat- 
ment, as to diet, discipline, and accommodation, the kind and 
quantity of work to be required of them, the intermission, liber- 
ty, and indulgence to be allowed them, must be determined, in a 
great measure, by custom ; for, where the contract involves so 
many particulars, the contracting parties perhaps express a few 
of the principal, and, by mutual understanding, refer the rest to 
the known custom of the country in like cases. f 

A master may command his servant to do whatever he may 
rightfully do himself ; but a servant is not bound to obey the 
unlawful commands of his master, nor is the master's command 
any legal justification of the servant in doing wrong. In a moral 
point of view, however, it is a palliation of the wrong, inasmuch 
as the master may be presumed to be as much superior to the 
servant in education and influence, as he is in his station. The 
master is bound by the act of his servant, either in respect to 
contracts or injuries, when the act is done by authority of the 
master. If the servant does an injury fraudulently, while in the 
immediate employment of his master, the master as well as the 
servant is liable in damages ; and he is also liable, if the injury 
proceeds from negligence, or want of skill, in the servant ; for 
it is the duty of the master to employ servants who are honest, 
skilful, and careful. 

But the master is only answerable for the fraud of his servant, 
while he is acting in his business, and not for fraudulent or inju- 
rious acts or misconduct in those things, which do not concern 
his duty to his master, and which, when he commits, he steps out 
of the course of his service. When the servant quits sight of 
the object for which he is employed, and, without having in view 
his master's orders, pursues the object which his own malice 
suggests, he no longer acts in pursuance of the authority given 
him, and such an act is deemed, both in law and morals, to be so 

* See Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 97. t Idem, p. 96. 



172 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

far a wilful abandonment of his master's business. If a servant 
employs another servant to do his business, and in doing it the 
servant so employed is guilty of an injury, the master is still 
liable. But this principle is applicable to those cases only, in 
which the nature of the business is such as to require the aid 
of subordinate persons, and then there is an implied authority to 
employ such persons.* 

The moral and legal responsibility of the master depends, too, 
in some degree, on the nature of the service. Inn-keepers and 
common carriers, for instance, are more extensively liable for 
the misconduct of their servants, than other masters. If the ser- 
vants of an inn-keeper should purloin the goods of his guest, 
the master is liable ; and the case is the same, if the servants of 
the common carrier embezzle the goods that are intrusted to 
their master. This is a doctrine founded in the best policy ; for, 
in these cases, guests, and those who employ common carriers, 
are under the necessity of trusting them with their property, 
without reposing any special confidence in them ; for they are 
generally strangers to them ; and the nature of the business of 
inn-keepers and common carriers is such, as gives them great 
opportunity for collusion with their servants in robbing their em- 
ployers. To prevent this mischief, they are both legally and 
morally made liable for the fault of their servants ; and, in such 
cases, when the master of other servants would not be liable, f 

The relation of master and servant is a single instance of the 
far more general relation of superior and inferior ; and the supe- 
rior party, being always under the very strong temptations of in- 
terest, and of that love of ruling, which is one of the universal 
infirmities of human nature, J is in special danger of abusing the 
station which the Providence of God has assigned him, and 
ought, therefore, to be peculiarly on his guard. One of the ways, 
in which masters sometimes abuse their station, consists in de- 

* Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. II. pp. 209, 210. 

t Reeve's Domestic Relations, p. 364. The author, in the three preceding 
paragraphs, has drawn aid from the law of master and servant, because, on 
this part of the subject, law, good morals, and sound policy, seem to him to 
coincide. He proposes to do the same when examining the relation of princi- 
pal and agent in the next chapter. 

$ " Qui nolunt occidere quemquam, posse volunt," says Juvenal, Sat. X. 96. 



Chap. I] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 173 

frauding their servants of their wages ; and, when this is not done, 
the smaller abuse is too frequently committed, of delaying the 
payment of them, much to their inconvenience, annoyance, and 
injury. The allotment of servants of every description is 
sufficiently humiliating in itself; and the wages, which their con- 
tract entitles them to expect, is that " hope of reward which 
sweetens their labor." This small reward ought to be promptly 
and cheerfully paid. The Hebrew law enjoined immediate pay- 
ment of servants' wages. It says, " The wages of him that is 
hired shall not abide with thee all night until the morning." * 
Few sins are noticed by the sacred writers in more severe 
terms, than the defrauding servants of their wages, f 

Bishop Jeremy Taylor, has, among the numerous subjects of 
his writings, treated of the duty of masters of families in respect 
to their servants, and I should do wrong, not to avail myself of 
his valuable directions. The quaintness of his style seems to 
give point to his sentiments. " The same care," says he, u is 
to extend to all of our family, in their proportions, as to our 
children ; for as, by St. Paul's economy, the heir differs nothing 
from a servant while he is in minority, so a servant should differ 
nothing from a child in the substantial part of the case ; and the 
difference is only in the degrees. Servants and masters are of 
the same kindred, of the same nature, and heirs of the same 
promises; and therefore, (1.) Must be provided of necessaries 
for their support and maintenance. (2.) They must be used 
with mercy. (3.) Their work must be tolerable and merciful. 
(4.) Their restraints must be reasonable. (5.) Their recrea- 
tions fitting and healthful. (6.) Their religion and the interest 
of their souls taken care of. (7.) Masters must correct their 
servants with gentleness, prudence, and mercy ; not for every 
slight fault, not always, not with upbraiding and disgraceful 
language, but with such only as may express and reprove the 
fault, and amend the person. But, in all these things," con- 
tinues he, "measures are to be taken by the contract made, by 
the laws and customs of the place, by the sentence of prudent 
and merciful men, and by the cautions and remembrances given 

* Leviticus xix. 13. t Genesis xxxi. 7. 41 ; Jeremiah xxii. 13 ; Malachiiii. 5. 



174 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

us by God ; such as that written by St. Paul, ' as knowing that 
we also have a Master in heaven.' The master must not be a 
lion in his house, lest his power be obeyed and his person hated ; 
his eye be waited on, and his business he neglected in secret. 
No servant will do his duty, unless he make a conscience, or 
love his master ; if he does it not for God's sake, or his mas- 
ter's, he will not always need to do it for his own." # 

3. u Servants born in the house, or bought with the money," 
of their master. The greatest part of the servants mentioned in 
the Scriptures were of this third class. f And the rule prescribed 
by the enlightened and equitable understanding of Cicero, nearly 
two thousand years ago, for the treatment of servants of this de- 
scription, continues to be applicable to their condition at this day ; 
cc uti ut mercenariis, opera exigenda, justa prcebenda ; " J that 
is, their masters are to treat them as they treat their hired servants, 
a suitable portion of labor is to be required of them, and just 
allowances of the necessaries and comforts of life are to be 
furnished them. Hence, on the ground of this ancient, just, and 
equitable rule of the great Roman moralist, the directions given 
by Bishop Taylor to masters, in the case of hired servants, be- 
come applicable to the class of servants whose case we are now 
considering. The duty of the master is to give them healthful 
and comfortable diet, clothing, and housing ; medical attendance 
and nursing when requisite, and moral and religious instruction ; 
since servants are co-heirs with their masters, of the hopes, the 
promises, the consolations, and the ordinances of the Gospel. § 

In return for these, the servant is to give his labor, in single- 
ness of heart, not with eye-service, counting his master worthy 
of all honor, that the name of God and his doctrine be not blas- 
phemed. || The interest, too, as well as the duty of the master, 
will lead him to give suitable protection to his servants. It is, 
moreover, both his right and his duty to maintain suitable dis- 
cipline over them. But he is to do this, remembering, that as 
he is a master over others on earth, so he has himself a Master 
in heaven, to whom he is responsible for the discharge of his 

* Holy Living, p. 183. 

t Michaelis' Commentaries on the Laws of Moses, Dr. Smith's translation, Vol. 
II. p. 155-191 ; Home's Introduction, Vol. III. 419-425. 

tDeOfficiis, I. 13. § 1 Tim. vi. 1, 2; 1 Cor. vii. 20-22. || 1 Tim. vi. 1. 



Chap. I.] THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 175 

duties to his servants, and with whom there is no respect of 
persons. The relation of servants of this class to their masters, 
subsists for life ; — ■ and they may well be regarded as travelling 
the journey of life in company, equal, in the sight of God, when 
they begin it, and again to become equal at the end of it, what- 
ever may be the distinctions authorized by law, custom, or rea- 
son between them on the way. 

Moreover, it is well for masters constantly to keep in mind, 
how responsible their situation is, in respect to their servants, 
how much they are intrusted to their judgment, discretion, and 
good feeling, — and under what strong temptations of passion, 
prejudice, and mistaken interest they are, to neglect or abuse the 
extensive discretionary power with which the laws of their coun- 
try and the providence of God have invested them. # 

* In this State (South Carolina), the Common Law of England and of the 
United States pertaining to the responsibility of a master for the acts done by 
his hired servant, is applicable without much if any qualification to the class of 
servants whose case is now under consideration. The court said, in 1832, after 
the most mature consideration of the subject, (see Moore v. Drayton, and Austin, 
Packer, fy Co. v. Gordon, Manuscript Records of the Court of Appeals, pp. 
137-139,) " A slave is an agent wholly irresponsible (except for crime) to any 
one but his master. Where a master employs slaves in any public employment, 
or trust, such as tradesmen, ferrymen, wagoners, patroons of boats, or masters 
of vessels in the coasting or river navigation, he undertakes, not only for their 
skill and faithfulness to all those who may employ them, but also for their gen- 
eral skill and faithfulness to the whole community. He constitutes them his 
agents for all those purposes, and the maxim, Qui facit per alium, facit per se } 
applies in full force to every act which they do in the course of his employment. 
If he would himself be liable for negligence or unskilfulness in the discharge 
of these vocations, it follows, that the act done by his agent, being his own act 
in point of law, must make him liable for all consequences which result from it. 
J Unless this was the rule, the situation of the people of this State would be un- 
\ fortunate indeed. They and their property might be injured and destroyed by 
the negligence or unskilfulness of a slave employed by his owner in some pub- 
lic capacity, and they could have neither remedy for the injury, nor could they 
compel the master even to punish his agent. There is no hardship in holding 
the master to be responsible ; for, when he selects a slave for any public em- 
ployment, he ought to have every possible inducement held out to him to com- 
pel him to make a worthy selection. A slave who is permitted to pursue a 
public employment out of the immediate and personal control of his master, 
ought to be so worthy of his master's confidence, that he would be willing to 
guaranty his prudence and skill to every one. This is the guaranty which is 
implied in every public employment committed to a slave. 

" The rule," continues the court, " is well settled in England, in the case of 
hired servants, and there can be no reason why it should not apply in the case 



176 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 






CHAPTER II. 

THE RELATION OF PRINCIPAL AND AGENT. 

The kinds of agents most worthy of the notice of a moral 
philosopher are attorneys, brokers, factors, and other mercantile, 
manufacturing, and agricultural agents. I proceed to explain the 
nature of their duties. 

of slaves. Indeed, reasons exist why it should be here extended to acts done 
wilfully in the course of a public employment, and to which the master's assent, 
from its nature, may be fairly implied." 

In this decision, sound policy, law, reason, and morals, as they always ought, 
fully coincide. In truth these terms in their best sense, always mean the same 
thing. Besides this, we have two earlier decisions in this State, on the same 
subject, which may be seen in 2 Bay, p. 345, and 3 McCord, p. 400. 

By our laws, too, the lives and limbs of servants (slaves) are protected against 
their masters and all others ; — their masters are required by law to furnish them 
with sufficient food and clothing ; — excessive and cruel chastisement is also 
punishable by law. The reason for enacting these provisions is declared by 
our legislature, to be, because " cruelty is not only highly unbecoming those 
| who profess themselves Christians, but is odious in the eyes of all men who 
't have any sense of virtue and humanity." Servants are further declared K to be 
I under the protection of the masters and managers of plantations, as well as un- 
der their government; " and, to prevent the provisions of the act from being 
evaded in their " true intent and meaning," it is enacted, that, under circum- 
stances calculated to favor evasion, " the master shall be adjudged guilty of the 
offence, unless he can make the contrary appear by good and sufficient evidence, 
or shall, by his own oath, clear and exculpate himself." (2 Brevard, pp. 240 - 
242.) Moreover, any person who shall wilfully murder any servant (slave), 
must, by the laws of this State, answer for such servant's life by forfeiting his 
own. (Acts of .1821, p. 12.) I do not find any law, which requires the master i 
to give his servants moral and religious instruction ; but the Act of 7th June, 
1712, secures baptism to all servants who may wish to receive that sacrament, 
and also the profession of the Christian faith ; and the practice is nearly uni- 
versal for masters, not only to permit, but to encourage their servants to attend 
divine worship on Sunday. Provision is made, too, for their accommodation, in! 
almost, if not quite, all our churches. The Spanish laws, on this subject, may 
well be commended, which require masters to have their servants prepared for 
I baptism by suitable instruction, and to pay a priest to explain to them the Chris- 
j tian doctrine, and to administer to them the holy sacraments of the Church. 
(See Royal Spanish Order, contained in Report of 11th of AugusJ, 1832, made 
to the House of Commons on the Extinction of Slavery throughout the British 
Dominions, folio, p. 241.) 



Chap. II.] PRINCIPAL AND AGENT. 177 

Whoever undertakes another man's business, thereby makes it 
his own ; for he knows that the business was committed to him 
with that expectation. If, therefore, he has used such a degree of 
activity, and practised such caution, as the importance of the 
business, in his judgment, deserved ; that is, as much as he would 
have used, if the same interest of his own had been at stake, he 
has discharged the full measure of his duty, although it should 
afterwards be found, that, by greater activity, diligence, and per- 
severance, he might have transacted the business with greater 
advantage.* This is the general principle of the morals of prin- 
cipal and agent ; — but still some expansion and application of 
the principle cannot fail to be useful. This is the more manifest, 
because the relation of principal and agent is but one branch of 
the more comprehensive relation of employer and the person em- 
ployed ; and, as all persons are either employers of others, or are 
employed by them, and often both, the rights and duties growing 
out of this relation belong, in substance, to all the modifications 
of the more comprehensive one, and ought, therefore, to be ac- 
curately as well as universally understood. 

The authority of the agent may be created by writing, or ver- 
bally without writing ; and, for the ordinary purposes of business, 
the latter is sufficient. Or the agency may be inferred from the 
relation of the parties and the nature of the employment, without 
proof of any express appointment. It is sufficient, that there be 
satisfactory evidence of the fact, that the principal employed the 
agent, and that the agent undertook the trust. And the extent 
of the authority of an agent will sometimes be extended or varied 
on the ground of implied authority, according to the pressure of 
circumstances connected with the business with which he is in- 
trusted. Even an acquiescence in the assumed agency of an- 
other, when the acts of the agent are brought to the knowledge 
of the principal, is equivalent to an express authority. By per- 
mitting another to hold himself out to the world as his agent, the 
principal adopts his acts, and will be held bound to the person 
who gives credit thereafter to the other in the capacity of his 
agent. 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 99. 
23 



178 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

There is a very important distinction, on the subject of the 
powers of an agent, between a general agent and one appointed 
for a specific purpose. An agent, who is intrusted with general 
powers, must exercise a sound discretion. If his powers are 
special and limited, he must strictly follow them. The acts of 
a general agent will bind his principal so long as he keeps within 
the general scope of his authority, even though he may act con- 
trary to his private instructions ; and this rule is necessary to 
prevent fraud, and encourage confidence in dealing. It is, in 
fact, indispensable to safety in dealing. A general agency is 
always in a considerable degree confidential. A general agent 
must exercise a sound discretion in the business of his prin- 
cipal, and, even if he has his instructions, he may depart from 
them, when, from some change in the circumstances, he is fully 
convinced, that his principal, if he were present, would change 
his intention. This rule is designed to guide, under a change of 
circumstances, the judgment and consciences of those whose 
agencies are confidential. But an agent constituted for a partic- 
ular purpose, and under a limited power, cannot bind his princi- 
pal, if he exceeds his power. The special authority must be 
strictly pursued ; and whoever deals with an agent, constituted 
for a special purpose, deals at his peril, when the agent passes 
the precise limits of his power.* 

It is scarcely necessary to say, that an agent, in all his inter- 
course and in all his transactions with his principal, is bound in 
conscience to act up to the confidence which is reposed in him. 
In the case of a general agency, the relation between the parties 
is highly confidential, and imports the most perfect good faith 
between them. Even the law of the land, whose general 
standard of conduct in respect to morals is imperfect, f speaks 
on this subject in a tone well fitted to command attention, re- 
spect, and deference. u The law, acting in aid of general mor- 
als, will not suffer one party, standing in a situation of which 
he can avail himself against the other, to derive advantage from 
that circumstance ; for it is founded in a breach of confidence." 
Again ; the general principle of law, which governs in this 

* Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. II. pp. 477-492. 
I See above, pp. 31 , 32. 



Chap. II] PRINCIPAL AND AGENT. 179 

case, and in many other analogous relations which subsist among 
men, such as lawyer and client, guardian and ward, trustee and 
beneficiary, (that is, the person beneficially interested,) is '- that, 
wherever confidence is reposed, and one party has it in his 
power, in a secret manner, for his own advantage, to sacrifice 
those interests which he is bound to protect, he shall not be per- 
mitted to hold any such advantage." * Further, the law inter- 
poses, upon u a motive of general public policy, and in a certain 
degree gives protection to the parties against the effects of over- 
weening confidence, and self-delusion, and the infirmities of 
hasty and precipitate judgment." And, although courts of jus- 
tice " do not sit, or affect to sit, in judgment upon cases, as cus- 
todes morum, enforcing the strict rules of morality" yet they 
maintain, that, cc if confidence is reposed, it must be faithfully 
acted upon, and preserved from any mixture of imposition ; if in- 
fluence is acquired, it must be kept free from the taint of selfish 
interests, and cunning and overreaching bargains ; if the means 
of personal control are given, they must be always restrained to 
purposes of good faith and personal good." f 

" In all cases," says Mr. Justice Story, u the principal con- 
tracts for the aid and benefit of the skill and judgment of the 
agent ; and the habitual confidence reposed in the latter makes 
all his acts and statements possess a commanding influence over 
the former. Indeed, in such cases, the agent too often so en- 
tirely misleads the judgment of his principal, that, while he is 
seeking his own peculiar advantage, he seems too often but con- 
sulting the advantage and interest of his principal ; placing him- 
self in the odious predicament, so strongly stigmatized by Cicero ; 
Totius autem injustitice nulla capitalior est, quam eorum, qui, 
cum maxime fallunt^ id agunt, ut viri boni esse videantur.\ It 
is, therefore, for the common security of all mankind," continues 
he, u that gifts procured by agents, and purchases made by them 

* See Story on " Constructive Fraud," in his Commentaries on Equity Ju- 
risprudence, Vol. I. pp. 305, 319, 320. 

f Idem. 

+ De Ofnciis, Lib I. c. 13. Translated thus; " No class of men are guilty of 
more flagrant injustice than those, who, in the midst of their wrong conduct, 
so disguise it, as, at the same time, to wear the garb and put on the appearance 
of upright men." 



180 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

from their principals, should be scrutinized with a close and vigi- 
lant suspicion. And, indeed, considering the abuses which may- 
attend any dealings of this sort between principals and agents, a 
doubt has been expressed, whether it would not have been wiser 
for the law in all cases to have prohibited them ; since there must 
almost always be a conflict between duty and interest on such 
occasions."* 

A special agency is chiefly ministerial, and is constituted for 
the purpose of having some particular act performed, of effecting 
some particular purpose, or of accomplishing some special ser- 
vice. Thus, when an attorney is employed to treat for an estate, 
which is a case of confidential agency, if he finds a defect in 
the title, he very properly desists, until he can confer with his 
principal. But if the commander-in-chief of an army detaches 
a subordinate officer upon a particular service, which service is 
found more hazardous, or otherwise more difficult, than was sup- 
posed ; so much so, that the officer is convinced, that his supe- 
rior, if he were acquainted with the true state of affairs, would 
recall or modify his orders ; still this officer must, if he cannot 
wait for fresh instructions without prejudice to the service upon 
which he is detached, pursue at all hazards, those which he 
brought with him. f This, it must be admitted, is an extreme 
case, — and it is always proper, that even a ministerial (special) 
agent, should keep in view the nature of the service he is to 
render, and of the business he is to transact, and that he should 
in some degree make this his guide. In every great change, 
especially every sudden change of circumstances, which could 
not have been anticipated, it is his duty, if possible, to wait for 
further instructions from his principal. 

When an agent is made responsible for the issue of any busi- 
ness or enterprise intrusted to him, he ought to be permitted to 
appoint his assistants and, to choose his own means by w ich to 
accomplish the object ; and, whenever an agent is not allowed 
to appoint his assistants and to choose his own means, he cannot 
equitably be made responsible for the result. 

In one class of instances which come within this relation, the 

* Commentaries on Equity Jurisprudence, Vol. I. pp. 310, 311. 
t Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 100. 



Chap. III.] OBSERVANCE OF TRUTH. 181 

person employed advises and directs his employer, ■ — of which, 
the lawyer and his client, the physician and his patient, the cler- 
gyman and his congregation, are the chief and most familiar 
cases. This, too, is the nature of the relation subsisting be- 
tween the Faculties of our universities, colleges, &c, and the 
Boards of Trustees which employ them, so far as the literary 
and professional department of those institutions is concerned. 
These cases, in which the advice of the person employed gov- 
erns the conduct of the employer, are of all, the most honorable 
kind of agencies. In them, moreover, a special responsibility 
always rests on the person employed. In all these cases, the 
employer calls into requisition and pays for, the peculiar skill and 
knowledge, and not merely or chiefly the manual labor, of the 
person employed. And the employments of life rise in rank, 
in proportion as they require more skill, knowledge, and integ- 
rity, for their successful exercise. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE OBSERVANCE OF TRUTH. 



This general form of expression is used to designate this 
part of my subject, because there are many violations of truth, 
besides direct falsehood. An adherence to truth is deservedly 
esteemed the chief of the personal virtues, and a disregard of it 
is universally numbered among the most flagrant offences against 
manners, morals, and religion. A single deliberate falsehood is 
a stain on the character which cannot easily be wiped away. 

" Ye shall not steal," says Moses to the Hebrews, " neither 
deal falsely, neither lie one to another." * David makes it a 
characteristic of the wicked, that " they go astray speaking lies 
as soon as they are born, that they love evil more than good, and 
lying rather than to speak righteousness." f Again, " Lying lips 
are an abomination to the Lord, but they that deal truly are his 

* Leviticus xix. 11. t Psalms lviii. 3; Hi. 3. 



182 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

delight." * " Lie not one to another," says St. Paul, cc seeing 
that ye have put off the old man with his deeds, and have put on 
the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of 
him that created him."f Again, St. Paul says, "The law is 
not made for a righteous man, but for the lawless, for the ungod- 
ly, and for sinners, for the unholy and profane, for murderers of 
fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers, for whore- 
mongers, for liars, for perjured persons, and if there be any other 
thing that is contrary to sound doctrine. "J St. John says, 
" All liars shall have their part in the lake which burns with fire 
and brimstone." § Again, " There shall in no wise enter into 
it (the holy Jerusalem) any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever 
worketh abomination, or maketh a lie." And again, " Without 
are dogs, {all persons not good men, all defiled by sin,) and sor- 
cerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and 
whosoever loveth and maketh a lie." || 

In these passages, falsehood is ranked with perjury, murder, 
sorcery, idolatry, parricide, and whatsoever worketh abomination. 
We may not perhaps be warranted in concluding, that all these 
sins are of an equally dark dye ; but assuredly we may conclude, 
that falsehood is any thing but a light sin, when it is ranked, on 
Divine authority, with the abominations of perjury and parricide, 
without any mark of discrimination between them. 

And, when we advert to the consequences of general and indis- 
criminate falsehood, we must be convinced, that right reason 
coincides with and sustains Divine revelation in its estimate of 
the importance of truth, and of the abomination of falsehood ; 
and that mankind are not in the wrong in estimating a regard for 
truth as the first of the personal virtues. The seal of universal 
reprobation is rightfully fixed on wilful and deliberate lying. 
Mutual confidence is the main spring of all that renders life valu- 
able ; and a regard for truth is the corner-stone, nay, it is the 
entire foundation, of all the confidence which exists, whether in 
the social intercourse, or in the business transactions, of mankind. 
So accustomed are we to receive and reciprocate confidence, 
that we cannot, without some reflection, be sensible of its abso- 

* Prov. xii. 22. f Col. iii. 9, 10. % 1 Tim. i. 9, ]0. 

§ Rev. xxi. 8. |] Rev. xxi. 27; xxii. 15. 



Chap. III.] OBSERVANCE OF TRUTH. 183 

lute necessity to the welfare of mankind. Occasions for repos- 
ing it occur every hour, at home and by the wayside, by day 
and by night, in solitude and in company. 

Let us suppose, for a moment, the great moral obligation of a 
mutual regard for truth to be dissolved, — no man reposing con- 
fidence in another, or entitled to it himself: — who does not see, 
that universal suspicion and distrust, insecurity, anxiety, and 
alarm, must be the consequence ? Direct and deliberate false- 
hood, therefore, is so personally disgraceful, so pointedly con- 
demned by Scripture, and tends in its consequences to such 
overwhelming, such universal ruin of every thing valuable and 
estimable in life, that it is condemned universally, — no voice is 
ever raised in its justification. But, as has been said before, 
truth is accustomed to be violated in many ways, besides direct 
falsehood. It is violated whenever there is an intention or a wil- 
lingness to deceive. Without attempting a complete enumera- 
tion of these ways, I shall touch, as I may, upon those which are 
most worthy of the notice of an elementary writer on morals. 

1. Truth is violated when facts, reasonings, circumstances, or 
any thing else, by whatever name called, are suppressed or omit- 
ted, with the knowledge or belief, that any person will be led into 
error or mistake by such suppression or omission. I do not say, 
that the omission or suppression of facts, circumstances, or what- 
ever else is seen to be necessary to lead the reader or hearer into 
the truth, is equally criminal with the direct assertion of what is 
known to be false ; — it may not be so, there are degrees in all 
offences, — but it is unquestionable, that the one as well as the 
other is a great violation of truth. And the comparative fre- 
quency with which truth is violated in this way, makes it a mat- 
ter of importance, that this part of the subject should be well 
understood. Various sources of illustration might be used to set 
this point in a clear light. 

Truth is violated by the historian, when he omits facts and 
circumstances, the absence of which prevents his narrative from 
making such an impression of events, characters, and transactions, 
as would be communicated by stating the truth in the full meas- 
ure of its integrity, and without disguise. The truth of history 
requires, that nothing he suppressed or omitted, which can mate- 



184 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

rially affect the general impression made by the narrative.* 
History is the greatest of earthly tribunals ; but all its dignity and 
glory vanish, when truth no longer sits supreme on the seat of 
justice. Again, truth is violated by the biographer, when he 
suppresses or omits incidents and traits of character, which are 
necessary to the full understanding and estimate of the person 
whose character he has undertaken to portray. 

Does not the lawyer, also, violate truth in the same way, when 
he suppresses or omits facts, authorities, and circumstances, 
knowingly, and for the purpose of leading the court and jury 
astray ? I will permit the late Sir James Mackintosh to an- 
swer. cc He who is influenced by the spirit of integrity," says 
he, " will never himself misrepresent, or be knowingly the 
cause of others misrepresenting the truth in a court of jus- 
tice ; no prospect of advantage to himself or his client will 
tempt him to the commission of so gross an error. I will 
mention two modes (by way of caution) in which it may be 
committed ; 1. by giving a false color to facts, in his own 
statement of them to the jury ; 2. by turning the answers of 
witnesses to purposes eccentric from their original design. Both 
these are very bold attacks upon the understanding and common 
sense of men. Integrity is averse from a conduct like this ; it 
teaches its pupil to consider, that in a court of justice the grand 
aim is truth ; and that a subversion of truth cannot be achieved, 
but at the expense of honor ; an expense which no man of a right 
mind will willingly incur." f 

2. Truth is violated, by speaking or writing. with a view to 
produce a particular effect, but without much regard to the 
truth of what is spoken or written, provided it is calculated to 
accomplish the desired end. Controversial writers of every de- 
scription are frequently guilty of violating truth in this way. 
Stimulated by the anticipated shouts of victory, or mortification 
of defeat, truth, in too many cases, soon ceases to be their main 
object, if it was so at first ; moral and equitable restraints are 
gradually cast aside ; and at length, blinded by prejudice, and 
heated by passion, nothing serves their purpose which does not 

* Cicero, De Oratore, Lib. II. c. 15. t Study and Practice of the Law, pp. 
245, 246. 



Chap. III.] OBSERVANCE OF TRUTH. 185 

seem to sustain and strengthen their own side, or militate against 
the side taken by their adversaries. Hence arise misstatements 
of the subject under discussion, mutual misrepresentation of the 
motives, opinions, designs, feelings, and arguments of the re- 
spective adversaries, misquotations and mistranslations of authori- 
ties ; partisan and sometimes personal attacks, and offensive 
personal imputations, made by one party in order to fix public 
prejudice and odium on the opposite party and his cause ; — 
these, all these practices and many more, must be familiar to 
all who are accustomed to peruse controversies. 

This spirit and these practices, in some degree, infect the 
controversies which spring up in literature, in science, in morals, 
and even in religion ; but it is in political party warfare, that 
the spirit of perversion and misrepresentation of the truth rages 
with tenfold virulence and bitterness. I must be sustained by 
the convictions of every candid and experienced politician, when 
I assert, that the effect, much more than the truth, of what is 
written, is regarded by the great body of our political partisan 
writers. Nay, must I not be sustained in further asserting, that 
the practice of sacrificing truth to effect has gradually found its 
way, from the partisan newspapers and journals, to the speeches 
of our legislators, and even into those still more grave and impor- 
tant productions, the reports of our legislative committees, and 
the messages of our chief executive magistrates ? Is it too much 
to say, that in the sacrifice of truth to effect, our gravest political 
documents are sometimes stained with assertions and statements, 
which must be known by the authors to be perversions and mis- 
representations of the truth ? I am unwilling to refer to particu- 
lar instances of such statements made in our gravest official 
documents ; and, fortunately for me, such particular reference is 
not necessary, — instances enough to justify me, cannot fail to 
occur to the memory of every one who is familiar with our recent 
political documents and history. This is violating historical 
truth in its ultimate sources, and it is worthy of the most mature 
and candid consideration of every patriot and statesman, nay, of 
every good citizen, whether this practice does not threaten, if 
it cannot be arrested, to render the future political history of this 
24 



186 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

country, in a great measure, uncertain, confused, and proble- 
matical. 

3. Again, truth is violated by the practice of repeating stories, 
narratives, and statements improbable in themselves, without much 
or any inquiry into their credibility, and without much regarding 
whether they are true or false. To originate such narratives 
and statements, without any ground on which to rest them, is, 
except that the intention of deceiving may be wanting, absolute 
and unqualified falsehood. And no man, who attaches much 
value or importance to truth, will be willing to assert any thing 
without knowing it to be true, or without a belief and assurance 
of its truth, resting on grounds reasonably entitled to confidence. 
Actual knowledge, then, or reasonable grounds of assurance, can 
alone justify us in asserting any thing for truth. And he does 
not show much respect for truth, who positively asserts any 
thing, of which he is not assured, and of which he might be as- 
sured by inquiry. 

Nor will a man, scrupulously regardful of truth, indulge himself 
in the habit of amplifying, exaggerating, and supplying circum- 
stances, with a view to embellish the narrations or anecdotes 
which he may have occasion to relate, and thus to season his con- 
versation, render it more attractive, and spice it to the taste of a 
circle of gay companions. Such a habit is dangerous; it may 
gradually undermine and impair, or perhaps, even destroy, a 
man's regard for truth, before he is sensible of the effect. Truth 
is too sacred a subject to be trifled with ; and such a habit, if it is 
not positively and unequivocally criminal, is assuredly overstep- 
ping the line of safety. Our safety, in such a case, consists in 
avoiding even too near an approach to the division line between 
right and wrong. Habits grow insensibly upon the individuals 
who practise them, until their remote results are widely different 
from any thing, which, in the outset, could have been anticipated. 

There are some instances on record, equally fitted to surprise 
and to instruct us in regard to the importance of an habitually 
strict observance of truth. The habit of amplifying on every 
occasion, of exaggerating and supplying circumstances whenever 
there is a temptation to do so, and, still more, of making positive 
affirmations upon inadequate grounds of assurance, has sometimes 



Chap. III.] OBSERVANCE OF TRUTH. 187 

led men eventually to mistake the suggestions of their passions 
and the promptings of their imaginations for truth, and to impose 
them on themselves and on others as such.* By a confirmed 
habit of disregarding truth, men have come at length firmly to 
believe their own falsehoods. It can scarcely be necessary to 
observe, that any thing saidmnder this division, does not apply 
to tales, parables, or other fictitious writings, designed for amuse- 
ment or instruction. 

4. Certain forms of expression, usual in polite circles of so- 
ciety, seem to be inconsistent with the sincerity of character in 
which much of truth consists, and with that simplicity and direct- 
ness of intercourse recommended by our Saviour, when he says, 
" Let your communication be, Yea, yea ; Nay, nay ; for whatso- 
ever is more than these cometh of evil." f 

When a stranger enters the house of a Spanish gentleman, 
properly introduced, he never fails to assure him, that both it and 
himself are perfectly and always at his disposal. He says to his 
guest, " Sir, here you have a house, this house is yours ; if I can 
serve you in any way, command me, — I am always at your dis- 
posal." \ And Miss Edgeworth must be good authority for say- 
ing, that, in England, a general invitation to visit, means nothing 
but u Good morning to you." § Any one, in the slightest degree 
acquainted with the modes of intercourse which prevail in fash- 
ionable life, cannot fail to know, that similar usual, but insincere 
forms of expression, are very common elsewhere than in Spain 
and England. Every person with whom we are accustomed to 
hold intercourse, is entitled to a polite, decorous, and respectful 
style of address. A just indulgence, too, may be allowed in 
favor of hyperbolical, ironical, and other playful forms of ex- 
pression, by which cheerfulness, good humor, and good feeling 
may be very much promoted. But, as on other subjects, just 
limits are to be observed, to transgress which is an offence against 
good taste, propriety, and decorum, if not against good morals. 

It is sometimes said, that it is well to give good words to 

* See Report to the U. S House of Representatives, of April 30th ; 1832, on 
the Bank of the United States, written by John Quinc^y Adams, p. 389. 

f Matt. v. 37. i Wines' Two Years and a Half in the Navy, Vol, I. p. 171 . 
§ Helen, Vol. I. p. 12. 



188 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

persons, when it is in your power to give them nothing else. 
This is very true, but a kind and polite address, and terms per- 
fectly courteous, are always consistent with the strictest observ- 
ance of truth ; as, also, bluntness of address and rudeness of 
language are quite consistent with an habitual disregard of truth. 
In fact, these observations pertain to good manners quite as much 
as to good morals ; or rather, in this instance, these two depart- 
ments meet and mingle with each other. Whatever is incon- 
sistent with truth, reason, propriety, decorum, a just taste, self- 
respect, and mutual respect, is equally at variance with both. 

Dr. Paley, among several instances of falsehoods which he 
says are not criminal, includes the case of a servant denying his 
master ; that is, saying to visiters that his master is not at home, 
when he knows him to be in the house, probably in the next 
room. As this is one of the most exceptionable of the usages 
of fashionable society to which I have referred, and as it has 
been frequently justified by persons whose general tone of moral 
feeling and conduct is sound and healthy, (and Dr. Paley is one 
of these,) I may be excused for giving it a moment's con- 
sideration. 

The ground taken by those who justify the practice, is, that 
it is a polite and inoffensive way of refusing to see a visiter, 
whom the person visited does not wish to see ; that it is con- 
ventional and well understood by those who use it. This is the 
best ground on which to rest it ; and, if the visiter and the person 
visited were the only parties concerned, it might be too much 
the part of a precisian to make objection against it. But a man's 
language and actions seldom terminate with himself, — themes- 
sage to the visiter at the door is heard by the children of the 
family, — they cannot understand how it is consistent with truth, 
— and, assuredly, their respect for the claims of truth is impaired. 
But this is not all. The message is carried by a servant ; he does 
not understand its consistency with truth, he has not much edu- 
cation, and is unaccustomed to refined distinctions ; the example 
of his master is apt to be, in all respects, a standard high enough 
for him ; his regard for truth is diminished, and his opinion of its 
obligation is unsettled. Now children and servants comprise a 
very large part of mankind, and those who are now children will 



Chap. IV.] OATHS. 189 

be the men and women of the next generation. Query. Does 
a gentleman when he has directed his servant to " deny him ' : to 
a visiter, feel, during the next hour, quite as much respect for 
himself as he did during the hour previous ? Is he perfectly 
satisfied, that he has set up a standard of truth safe for his children 
and servants ? 



CHAPTER IV. 



OATHS. 



The observance of truth is the highest of the personal vir- 
tues, — its violation is always a gross personal degradation, — 
not only so, falsehood is a heinous offence against manners, mor- 
als, and religion. Its tendency too, as seen in its effects, is 
always injurious ; or, if its effects are not always actually so, still 
the liar is entitled to no credit by reason of this, — his conduct 
is not palliated, much less justified, by this circumstance. Its 
tendency may be counteracted, but this does not change its 
nature. This is undeniably and unchangeably evil. 

This is true of the affairs of ordinary life ; but in certain 
special cases, the chief of which are trials in our courts of justice, 
the general and frequent violation of truth would be attended 
with universal and overwhelming calamities, inasmuch as the 
life, character, and estate of every man would be no longer 
secure. There are, moreover, certain situations, and especial- 
ly public offices, usually called, by reason of their excellence, 
" offices of honor ) trusty and profit ," which require, for the per- 
formance of their duties, special uprightness and integrity of char- 
acter, inasmuch as their suitable discharge presupposes all the 
moral qualities which constitute trust-worthiness ; and the persons 
invested with these offices must, from the nature of the case, 
be in a great measure the judges of their own duties. The 
virtue of the best of men is imperfect, — • hence, for the security 
of the public, all possible means have been devised for attaining 
truth in our tribunals of justice, and for strengthening and con- 



190 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

firming the integrity of those who are invested with situations and 
offices of trust. 

One of the chief means, which have been relied on to secure 
the observance of truth in witnesses, and integrity in those who 
hold situations of public trust, is, the administration of oaths, by 
which, earthly virtue, imperfect as it is, may be confirmed by the 
great ultimate sanction of morals, — the consideration of a future 
state of rewards and punishments. Men continue, as in the days 
of St. Paul, to " swear by the greater, and an oath for confirma- 
tion is" still "to them an end of all strife." * I shall con- 
sider oaths under the several divisions, — • 1. Of their lawfulness. 
2. Their forms. 3. Their signification. 4. Their efficacy as 
securities for truth and integrity. 5. Their abuse. 6. In what 
cases they are not binding. 

1. The use of oaths on solemn occasions, especially to give 
the highest binding force to solemn and important transactions, is 
coeval with the first dawn of history. The distinction between 
judicial and profane swearing seems to be recognised in the ten 
commandments (compare the third and ninth) ; and an examina- 
tion and comparison of the passages in the New Testament, which 
pertain to oaths, f has had the effect of convincing all Christians, 
except the Quakers and Moravians, of their lawfulness in a moral 
point of view. The distinction, indeed, between judicial and 
profane oaths is a very plain one ; and, while the former are clearly 
sanctioned by the sacred writers, the latter are condemned and 
forbidden by them. From respect to the plea of a tender con- 
science, urged by the Quakers and Moravians, the forms insert- 
ed in our political constitutions, and used in our courts of justice 
and wherever else judicial oaths are accustomed to be adminis- 
tered, generally, if not always, admit of an affirmation instead of 
an oath. In the view of every good man, however, this is a 
difference in form rather than in substance. f 

2. The forms of oaths and the ceremonies accompanying their 

* Heb. vi. 16. 

t Matt. v. 33 - 6 ; xxvi. 63 ; Rom. i. 9 ;< 2 Cor. i. 23 ; Heb. vi. 16 ; James v. 12. 

X The lawfulness of oaths is well vindicated by Dr. Paley, in his Moral and 
Political Philosophy, pp. 112-114, — and strenuously opposed by Dymond, 
Essays on Morality, pp. 147- 152. 



Chap. IV.] OATHS. 191 

administration, have been very various in different ages and coun- 
tries. The ancient ceremonies, with which oaths were adminis- 
tered, were of a most imposing kind ; and we may remark as a 
fact of some interest, in descending the chain of history from an- 
cient to modern times, a gradual simplification of oaths and the 
accompanying ceremonies, as knowledge, intercourse, and good 
faith have become more common. 

A very ancient form of the oath consisted in slaying an animal, 
cutting it into halves, placing the halves opposite to each other, 
sometimes upon opposite altars, between which the party or 
parties to be sworn, passed. This form appears to have been 
used, when covenants and treaties were made, and upon other 
occasions of unusual importance. Jeremiah says, tc I will give 
to punishment the men who have not performed the words of the 
covenant which they had made before me, when they cut the calf 
in twain, and passed between the parts thereof. * This cere- 
mony was highly significant, importing that the person sworn 
consented to be cut to pieces in like manner with the animal slain 
before him, if he failed to observe the oath. Sometimes the 
victim was struck down with an axe, in the presence of the 
jurors, without being cut into pieces ; the striking being preceded 
by an imprecation, f Hence the Latin phrase ferire fcedus or 
pactum, from whence the English phrase to striJce a bargain 
seems to be derived. This ceremony had the same import with 
the preceding. J 

In the middle ages, when violence and bad faith were equally 
the chief characteristics of the times, the parties were sworn, on 
occasion of important transactions, at the altar of the church, 
before the consecrated host, or, which was esteemed still more 
binding, upon the relics of the Saints. The form of doing 
homage used by vassals to their liege lords, which consisted in 
the vassal's putting his hands between the knees and within the 
hands of the liege, at the same time kneeling before him, and 
which is in some countries continued to this day, may very 

* Jer. xxxiv. 18 ; Gen. xv. 9, 10, 17. Homer's Iliad, II. 124 j III. 105. 
t Livy, Lib. I. c. 24. 

t See Calmet's Collections, under the terms " Oath " and " Covenant," and 
in Fragments, Nos. 63, 129, 131, 277. 



192 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

probably have been derived from the form of the oath seen in 
Genesis xxiv. 2, 3, as the variation is not very considerable. # 

In Scotland, and in some of the United States, the juror, 
when sworn, holds up his right hand. Dr. Paley thinks this 
ceremony was derived from the Jews, and that it explains 
Psalm cxliv. 3, which says, " whose mouth speaketh vanity, 
and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood."! This, how- 
ever, more probably refers to the pledge accustomed to be 
entered into by the parties to an engagement, and evidenced 
by the joining of their hands. In England, and in several, 
probably in most of the United States, the juror, while repeat- 
ing, or more generally listening to the oath, takes a copy of the 
Bible, or of the Four Gospels, in his right hand, or lays the same 
hand upon either of them, and the ceremony concludes with 
his kissing the sacred volume. In England, too, an oath admin- 
istered to a Jew upon the Old Testament or upon the Penta- 
teuch, to a Mahometan upon the Koran, and to a Gentoo ac- 
cording to the form prescribed by his religion, has been recog- 
nised as valid. J The reasonable principle, and the one intended, 
I presume, to be established, is, that every man, when admitted 
to an oath, shall be bound by the highest sanctions of his own 
religion. This principle has been expressly sanctioned in the 
Revised Statutes (ch. 94, sec. 11.) of Massachusetts, and I 
doubt not, either has been, or would be, if occasion should 
arise, admitted and acted upon by every court of justice in the 
United States. 

3. The signification of oaths. An oath may well be called a 
religious act,§ since by it the existence of God is acknowledged, 
and an appeal is made to his omniscience, his omnipresence, 
and his retributive justice. The ancient forms and imposing 
ceremonies were addressed to the senses and the imagination, 
and were well suited, we may presume, to the state of the times 
in which they were devised and used, when, amidst general vio- 

* See Hawkins' Picture of Quebec, p. 130. 
t Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 110. 
X 1 Atkyns, 21 ; Phillips' Law of Evidence, 19. 

§ This view of an oath is as ancient as the time of Cicero, who says, " Jus- 
jurandum affirmatio religiosaest." De Officiis, Lib. III. 29. 



Chap. IV.] OATHS. 193 

lence, bad faith, and ignorance, it was indispensable to call in the 
aid of the senses and the imagination, to make a suitable impres- 
sion on the understanding and conscience. The advance of 
knowledge, of morals, of religion, and of general cultivation, 
have rendered the simple forms and ceremonies of modern times 
adequate to the attainment of the end designed. The substance 
of the meaning of every oath must be, an appeal to Almighty 
God, in which the juror invokes his vengeance or renounces 
his favor, if he knowingly declares what is false, willingly fails to 
perform his promise or contract, or otherwise violates the terms 
of the oath in their known signification. 

In taking the u oath in evidence," the witness swears cc to 
speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," 
touching the subject of inquiry. This form is brief, appropriate, 
and easy to be understood. The designed concealment of any 
truth, which relates to the matter in question, is as much a 
violation of the oath, as to testify to a positive falsehood ; and 
this too, even if the witness is not questioned as to that particu- 
lar point. The oath requires of the witness, that he give a com- 
plete and unreserved account of what he knows of the subject of 
the trial, whether or not the questions proposed to him reach 
the extent of his knowledge. So that if it be inquired of a wit- 
ness after the trial, why he did not inform the court on any par- 
ticular point, the reply that he was not questioned on that point, 
is not a satisfactory answer. 

There is one exception to this rule, and only one, to wit ; 
when a full disclosure of the truth tends to convict the witness 
himself of some legal crime. Our law constrains no man to be- 
come his own accuser, and consequently must impose the oath 
in evidence with this tacit reservation. But the exception must 
be confined to legal crimes. A point of honor, of reputation, 
or of delicacy, may make a witness disinclined to disclose some 
circumstance with which he is acquainted ; but a concealment of 
the truth, for either of these reasons, is in nowise justifiable. 
When, however, an accomplice is admitted to give evidence 
against his associates in crime, he may, and must, testify against 
himself, as there is a compact to this effect, between himself 
and the State. In criminal prosecutions, tenderness to the 
25 



194 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part 111. 

prisoner, though a specious apology for concealment, is no just 
excuse ; for, if it were so, it would take the administration of 
penal justice out of the hands of judges and juries, and make it 
depend upon the temper of prosecutors and witnesses. 

Questions may be asked, which are irrelative to the cause, 
which affect the witness himself, or some third person ; in which, 
and in all cases where the witness doubts concerning the perti- 
nency and propriety of the question, he ought to refer his doubts 
to the court. The answer of the court in explanation, or even 
in relaxation, of the oath, is authority enough to the witness ; for 
the law which imposes the oath may remit what it will of the 
obligation, and it belongs to the court to declare what the mind 
of the law is. Moreover, as oaths are designed for the security 
of the imposer, (the rule is, Jurare in animum imponentis,) it is 
manifest that they must be understood in the sense in which the 
imposer intends them; otherwise they afford no security to him. # 

4. The efficacy of oaths, as securities for truth and integrity. 
Every one who has in mind the observations of Cicero on the 
oath of Regulus,f by which he bound himself to return to the 
Carthaginians, unless he should effect an exchange of prisoners, 
must be satisfied, that oaths were highly efficacious among the 
Romans during the best days of their commonwealth. And 
Cicero says, that the conduct of Regulus, in adhering to his oath, 
which must ever call forth the highest admiration, did not so 
much spring from his individual virtue, as from the virtue of 
the times in which he lived .J The spirit of those times would 
not have permitted him to do otherwise than observe his oath, 
cruel as was the punishment which awaited him on his return. 
If, then, oaths were thus efficacious under a system of false 
religion, ought a Christian to doubt their efficacy as securities 
for truth and integrity, when administered under the sanctions of 
the true religion ? 

The administration of an oath will make even a good man 
more circumspect in giving his testimony ; and the number of 
men must be very small, who are hardened enough to stand up 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, pp. 115-117. 

t De Officiis, Lib. III. c. 26-32. % Idem, c. 31. 



Chap. IV.] OATHS. 195 

in a court of justice, and utter deliberate falsehood, under the 
sanctions and solemnities of an oath. We may well believe, 
that many a man may be frequently guihy of lying, who will 
shrink from committing perjury. 

We may be further satisfied of the security of oaths, by ad- 
verting to the difference between perjury and ordinary lying. 
Perjury is a sin of greater deliberation than lying. The thought 
of God and of the sanctions of religion is brought home to the 
understanding and conscience of the juror at the time, by the 
administration of the oath. If he offends, therefore, it is with a 
high hand, — his offence is a more daring defiance of the sanc- 
tions of religion, and a more daring contempt of the knowledge, 
power, and justice of God, than ordinary lying, in which there 
may be nothing to lead the mind to any special reflection upon 
the Deity. 

Again, perjury violates confidence more flagrantly than lying. 
Mankind must trust to one another ; and if they cannot trust to 
an oath, they have nothing to which they can trust. Hence, 
legal adjudications, which govern and affect every right and inter- 
est on this side of the grave, of necessity proceed and depend 
upon oaths. Perjury, therefore, in its general consequences, 
strikes at the security of reputation, property, and even of life 
itself. The same credit is not given to statements made in the 
ordinary way ; and, therefore, lying cannot do the same mischief 
with perjury. 

Moreover, God directed the Hebrews to swear by his name ; # 
and was pleased, " in order to show the immutability of his own 
counsel," f to confirm his covenant with that people by an oath ; 
neither of which things, it is probable, he would have done, had he 
not intended to represent oaths as having some meaning and effect 
beyond the obligation of a mere promise ; which effect must be 
owing to the more severe punishment with which he will vindi- 
cate the violation of oaths4 Finally, the declarations of judges, 
lawyers, and other official persons, are nearly if not quite uniform 
in favor of oaths, as securities for the attainment of truth in 

* Deut. vi. 13 ; x. 20. t Heb. vi. 17. 

X Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, pp. 114, 115. 



196 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

the administration of justice. History, argument, and experi- 
ence, therefore, combine to satisfy us of the efficacy of oaths, 
as securities for truth and integrity. 

5. The abuse of oaths. During many years past, complaints 
in regard to the administration of oaths, have been frequent and 
general in England and in the United States. It has been com- 
plained, that oaths have been unnecessarily multiplied ; that they 
are required on trifling occasions ; in cases in which the juror 
does not and cannot know the truth of the matter on which he 
is sworn ; that it is degrading for men of dignity and elevation 
of character to confirm their assertion by an oath ; and that the 
prevalence of oaths has produced upon the community a very 
material and very general effect, in reducing their estimate of the 
obligation of plain truth, in its natural and simple forms. 

All this has been said, and much more. Dr. Paley says, " It 
merits public consideration, whether the requiring of oaths on 
so many frivolous occasions, especially in the customs and in the 
qualification for petty offices, has any other effect than to make 
them cheap in the minds of the people. A pound of tea," he 
continues, u cannot travel regularly from the ship to the consum- 
er without costing half a dozen oaths at the least ; and the same 
security for the due discharge of their office, namely, that of an 
oath, is required from a church-warden and an archbishop, from 
a petty constable and the chief justice of England."* And 
Mr. Dymond says, " Oaths, at least the system of oaths which 
obtains in this country (England), tend powerfully to deprave 
the moral character. We have seen," continues he, " that they 
are continually violated, — that men are continually referring to 
the most tremendous sanctions of religion, with the habitual be- 
lief that these sanctions impose no practical obligation. Can 
this," he asks, " have any other tendency than to diminish the 
influence of religious sanctions upon other things ? If a man 
sets light by the divine vengeance in the jury-box to-day, is he 
likely to give full weight to that vengeance before a magistrate 
to-morrow ? We cannot prevent the effects of habit. Such 
things will infallibly deteriorate the moral character, because they 

* Moral and Political Philosophy, pp. Ill, 112. 



• 



Chap. IV.] OATHS. 197 

infallibly diminish the power of those principles upon which the 
moral character is founded." * 

We may well believe, that the quotation from the last author 
partakes very much of overstatement, and that many of the com- 
plaints respecting oaths are made without good reason. Still the 
conviction, that oaths are very greatly abused, is so strong and 
general, as not to permit us to conclude, that all or the greater 
part of these complaints are without just foundation. In many 
things where form is concerned, quite as much depends on the 
manner in which the form is administered as on the matter which 
the form contains. And in no case, perhaps, does this remark 
more forcibly apply, than to an oath. If all oaths were adminis- 
tered under suitable circumstances of solemnity, with distinctness 
of utterance and a gravity of tone and manner befitting the occa- 
sion, it is probable, that objections against them would be very 
much diminished. Very just objections however, in truth, seem 
to me to lie against our system of oaths, for their number and 
their use on trifling occasions; but a still stronger objection lies 
against the levity of manner and almost total want of reverence 
with which they are too often administered. 

The subject of voluntary and extra-judicial oaths has been 
much discussed in some parts of this country within a few years ; 
and, in some of the States, Masonic oaths have been prohibited, 
on the ground, that they have sometimes interfered, and may 
again interfere with the duty of the citizen to his country. 

My sentiments on this subject may be summed up and classified 
thus ; (1.) Oaths ought not to be used, where other means exist 
of attaining the end for which they have been accustomed to be 
administered. The case of the election laws in this State 
(South Carolina) may be used to illustrate this, w T here, instead 
of putting the elector to his oath, amidst the haste, agitation, and 
sometimes turmoil of the polls, — "that he has the qualifications 
required by law, and that he has not voted elsewhere," the quali- 
fications of all the electors, within particular districts, might be 
previously ascertained, and their names entered in registers kept 
for the purpose, and used at the time of the election, by which 

* Essays on Morality, p. 157. 



198 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

to admit the citizens of each particular district to the exercise 
of the elective franchise. (2.) Oaths, legal affirmations, which do 
not differ essentially from oaths,* and affidavits, ought to be abol- 
ished in all cases where a declaration can be safely substituted. 
There is room for difference of opinion, how far declarations may 
take the place of our system of oaths in the present state of pub- 
lic sentiment, knowledge, and morals ; but, in my judgment, the 
time has come, when they might be safely and beneficially substi- 
tuted in all cases except the administration of civil and penal 
justice. (3.) Oaths fail of making their due impression, unless 
they are administered under circumstances of suitable solemnity, 
and in a manner becoming their sacred nature. 

The remark has before been made, that the form, substance, 
and accompanying ceremonies of oaths have necessarily been 
suited to the character of the times in which they were devised 
and used ; and that, looking at them by the light of history, they 
have been simplified as knowledge, good faith, and general en- 
lightenment have advanced. The present is an age of knowl- 
edge and of enlarged intercourse ; and it may be said, with great 
confidence, that at no previous period has good faith been so 
much respected, or the public mind so much enlightened, both 
in England and in the United States. Who can doubt that a 
further simplification of the system has become safe, and would 
be beneficial ? A conviction to this effect has become as gener- 
al, as can ever be expected in favor of any considerable change 
to be made under any circumstances. 

Acting upon this general conviction and upon this state of 
public sentiment, the British Parliament has passed a new act 
(9th September, 1835), very important in regard to the changes 
and general provisions which it introduces, and in preparing 
which the entire subject of administering oaths seems to have 
been most carefully reviewed and considered. The act took 
effect on the 1st of October, 1835, and provides for the general 
substitution of declarations, instead of the former system of oaths, 
solemn affirmations, and affidavits, — in the collection of the rev- 
enue, and in all the offices and departments of business under 



Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 115, note. 



Chap. IV.] OATHS. 199 

the superintendence of the Lords of the Treasury, — in the uni- 
versities of Oxford and Cambridge, and all other bodies corpo- 
rate and politic, — in the cases of church-wardens, persons act- 
ing under various trusts, persons obtaining patents for new inven- 
tions, and the transfer of the stock of the Bank of England, &c. 
&c. The declarations must be to the same effect with the oaths, 
&c. for which they are substituted, and must be subscribed by 
the party making them. The wilfully making a false declaration, 
in any material particular, is made punishable as a misdemeanor. 

The oath of allegiance is still to be required as heretofore ; 
and no changes are made in the administration of oaths in any 
court of justice, or in any proceeding before any justice of the 
peace ; but neither justices of the peace nor any other persons, 
are to administer or to receive oaths and affidavits touching any 
matters of which they have no jurisdiction by statute. Voluntary 
and extra-judicial oaths and affidavits are entirely suppressed ; but 
voluntary declarations, by which written instruments, &c. may be 
confirmed, may be received by justices of the peace and other 
magistrates. It may be hoped, that this act of the British Par- 
liament, dictated by an enlightened judgment and patriotism, may 
soon be imitated in the United States. 

6. In what cases oaths are not binding. When oaths are 
administered in affirmance of a promise, they are not binding 
when the promise itself is not binding ; and when to secure the 
performance of a contract, they do not bind when the contract 
is unlawful, or is for any other cause not binding. Having before 
adverted to Masonic oaths, which have lately caused much con- 
troversy in this country, and been the occasion of considerable 
violence, I will subjoin, that if any of the Masonic or other 
extra-judicial oaths shall, in any event, interfere with the duty of 
the citizen to his country, they are superseded by the higher duty 
which he owes his country, — they are not binding. Still I may 
say, in regard to extra-judicial oaths in general, that, when they 
have been voluntarily taken, and the obligation which they im- 
pose is not in itself morally wrong, — that is, does not interfere 
with any personal, moral, or political duty, — it does not seem 
right to set them aside, and renounce their obligation, from slight 
reasons. Especially, when this renunciation is a betrayal of 



200 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

confidence specially reposed, and tends to produce jealousies, 
animosities, and every kind of ill-feeling, and even threatens to 
disturb the public tranquillity, a good man will hesitate long, and 
reflect carefully, before he does an act, by which his prudence 
and consistency, if not the still higher qualities of his moral 
character must stand committed, and by which the feelings of 
others must be violated, and their confidence betrayed. 



CHAPTER V. 



OBSERVANCE OF PROMISES. 



The indispensable necessity of observing good faith in the 
transactions and intercourse of mankind, and the dangerous 
nature and ruinous consequences of bad faith, have before been 
sufficiently illustrated and insisted on. Good faith is the great 
moral bond which keeps men united in society ; the prosperity 
and happiness of individuals and communities depend upon its 
observance ; nothing can supply its place, or atone for the want 
of it. Universal bad faith would introduce universal suspicion 
and distrust, and these again would bring universal unhappiness 
and ruin in their train. The highest breach of good faith is 
falsehood, in its various kinds, degrees, and modifications ; and 
as this breach is particularly dangerous and criminal, men have 
guarded against it with corresponding solicitude ; on various im- 
portant occasions, in order more effectually to secure truth, draw- 
ing motives for its observance from the solemnities of the unseen 
world, by the use of an oath. 

The next most dangerous infraction of good faith, is, the 
non-observance of promises and contracts, which last are mutual 
promises. In a due regard to these, consists no small part of 
practical good faith. I shall treat of promises under two divis- 
ions ; I. In what sense they are to be interpreted. II. In what 
cases they are not binding. 

I. A promise differs from a mere declaration of our inten- 
tions, though there is much resemblance between them. When 



Chap. V.] OBSERVANCE OF PROMISES. 201 

we simply declare what our present intentions are, nothing more 
is required to justify our declarations of this kind, than that we 
were, at the time, sincere in making them. Still, since, in de- 
claring our intentions, we may very probably raise certain ex- 
pectations in others, and since we are bound to satisfy, as far 
as we can, the expectations which we knowingly raise, such a 
declaration lays a man under an obligation, which, though an 
imperfect one, a wise and good man will not neglect or lightly 
esteem. A wise man will not willingly lay himself open to the 
charge of trifling, or of forming his designs without deliberation, 
and changing them without reason. And, unless the motives 
which engage him to change his designs are reasonable and 
weighty, he cannot easily escape this charge, if he does not make 
good his declarations by his conduct. 

For instance, a man may declare his intention to leave a part 
of his estate to his friend at his death. In consequence of such 
declaration, his friend will very naturally raise his style of living, 
and otherwise conform himself to the expectations of enlarged 
fortune which he has been led to entertain. A disappointment, 
therefore, does not leave him in the same condition in which he 
would have been, if no such expectations had been raised ; — the 
entire course of his life and pursuits may, very possibly, have 
been changed in consequence of them. A wise man, therefore, 
for his own sake, or from regard to his own character, and a 
good man, for the sake of others and from regard to their welfare, 
will keep his intentions to himself, and make no declaration of 
them, until he has well considered the matter, and is well satis- 
fied, that nothing will probably intervene, which may cause him 
to fail in making them good. If he has once declared his inten- 
tions, he will be careful to abide by them, and, without carrying 
them into effect, will not feel satisfied with himself, unless he 
can find full justification in hindrances and circumstances which 
could not have been foreseen. 

According to Dr. Rutherforth, a man may go one step further 
without coming to a promise ; — " he may not only declare what 
his present intentions are, but he may add, that these are his 
settled intentions, that he is not only in earnest now, but will 
continue in the same mind when the time comes for putting these 
26 



202 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

intentions in practice. This additional declaration," says he, 
"does not confer any perfect right upon the person in whose 
favor it is made, nor give him any strict demand upon him who 
made it. But it strengthens vastly his obligation to make his 
designs good ; both because it would be an instance of greater 
levity to change what seems to have been thus firmly and unal- 
terably resolved upon ; and because a disappointment, to those 
who are made to expect his favors, will be so much more hurt- 
ful, in proportion as their expectations were raised higher." 
Again, continues he, " when a man not merely declares his 
present intentions to another, in reference to some future gift or 
service, with satisfactory indications of his being in earnest, and 
of his being resolved with himself to continue in the same mind ; 
but, further, makes known his design to give him a right to de- 
mand such gift or service hereafter, — it is a promise."* 
Here, however, as sometimes elsewhere, this valuable writer 
draws a line of distinction where there is not much difference. 
When the terms of a promise admit of more senses than one, 
the promise is to be performed in that sense in which the prom- 
iser apprehended at the time that the promisee received it. It 
is very certain, that the rightful interpretation of a promise is not 
always the same in which the promiser intended to perform it, 
when making it. An equivocal promise may be made the means 
of the most cruel deception. For instance, Mahomet, Emperor 
of the Turks, at the taking of Negropont, having promised a man 
to spare his head, caused him to be cut in two, through the 
middle of the body. Tamerlane, after having engaged the city 
of Sebasta to capitulate, under the promise of causing no blood 
to be spilt, caused all the soldiers of the garrison to be buried 
alive. f These barbarian conquerors fulfilled their promises in one 
sense, and in the sense too, in which they intended at the time 
of making them ; but not in the sense in which the promisees 
actually received them, nor in the sense in which they them- 
selves knew that the promisees received them ; which last sense, 
according to the rule I am illustrating, was the sense in which 
they were in conscience bound to perform them. 

* Institutes of Natural Law, Chap. XII. 1, 2. 
t Quoted by Vattel, Law of Nations, p. 313. 



Chap. V.] OBSERVANCE OF PROMISES. 203 

Still less is a promise always to be interpreted in the sense in 
which the promisee actually understood it ; for, according to such 
a rule, a man might be drawn into engagements which he never 
designed to undertake. It must, therefore, be the sense (for 
there is no other remaining) in which the promiser believed that 
the promisee accepted his promise. This will not differ from 
the actual intention of the promiser, where the promise is given 
with sincerity, and without collusion or reserve ; but it is best to 
put the rule in the above form, to prevent evasion, in cases in 
which the popular meaning of a phrase, and the strict grammati- 
cal signification of terms, differ ; or, in general, to prevent eva- 
sion, wherever the promiser might attempt to make his escape, 
through some ambiguity in the expressions which he used.* 

Promises are sometimes made upon certain conditions ; and 
those conditions may be either expressed, or tacit and implied. 
When the condition is expressed, it thereby becomes a part of 
the promise itself ; and, whenever a promise pertains to any thing 
important, the condition, if there is one, ought always to be dis- 
tinctly declared. This prevents disappointments and misunder- 
standings, and all the evil consequences which are accustomed to 
grow out of them. The surest way of making a promise abso- 
lute in all other respects, is, to annex one or more express con- 
ditions to it. When one condition is expressed, the natural pre- 
sumption is, that no other is implied or understood ; because, if 
there had been any other in the mind of the promiser, the occa- 
sion of mentioning the one condition would naturally have led 
him to mention the other, — when he designed to make condi- 
tions, and was employed in making them, he mentioned only one, 
— we have, therefore, good reason to believe, that he thought of 
and intended no more. Still, it cannot be said, universally, that 
a promise is subject to no tacit conditions, because none are 
expressed. 

It has sometimes been affirmed, that all promises are to be 
understood to contain a tacit condition, that the promiser con- 
tinues in the same situation as when he promised ; insomuch so, 
that he is not bound by his promise, when the time of perform- 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 73. 



204 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part 111. 

ance comes, unless it shall be as convenient to him to make it 
good as it was at the time of promising. But such a tacit con- 
dition as this, if the promiser is allowed to explain it, will put it 
in his power either to be bound or not bound by his promise, 
according to his own good pleasure. For it is next to impossi- 
ble, that the circumstances of any man should continue so exactly 
the same, as not to furnish him, on this ground, with a pretext to 
evade his promise, between the time of promising and the time 
of performance. Besides, it would be absurd to suppose a con- 
dition to be tacitly annexed to any obligation, which is of such a 
kind as to leave the obligation to the discretion of the party 
obliged. * 

But promises are made every day and almost every hour ; — 
all the minutiae of time, place, and circumstance cannot always 
be distinctly expressed, and, where nothing of much importance 
is depending on them, implied conditions may well be admitted. 
How many promises are made every day in the unqualified form, 
which, however, it is well understood, will be performed or neg- 
lected, according as our health at the time may permit or pre- 
vent, or according as the weather and other circumstances over 
which we have no control, may be favorable or unfavorable. 
Moreover, the cases in which promises are not binding, which 
are to be reviewed and illustrated under the next division, must 
be understood as implied conditions of every promise. 

The general and governing principle applicable not only to 
promises, but also to a mere declaration of intention, when such a 
declaration affects another person, is, that our obligation is meas- 
ured by the expectations which we knowingly and voluntarily 
excite. The same principle is also applicable to our conduct. 
Any action or conduct of ours towards another, by which we are 
sensible his expectations are excited, creates an obligation on 
our part, which we are morally bound to satisfy and fulfil. Tak- 
ing, for instance, a kinsman's child, and educating him for a libe- 
ral profession, or in a manner suitable only for the heir of a large 
fortune, puts a man under the same moral obligation to place him 
in such a profession, or to leave him such a fortune, as if he had 

f Rutherforth's Institutes of Natural Law, p. 92. 



Chap. V.] OBSERVANCE OF PROMISES. 205 

given him the most unequivocal promise. Men are frequently as 
much injured and disappointed, and on as just grounds too, when 
the expectations, raised by another's conduct or declared inten- 
tions, are not fulfilled, as they would have been by his failure to 
make good the most positive assurances which he could have 
given. There is, therefore, not much difference of moral obliga- 
tion between a particular course of conduct, declaration of in- 
tention, and a promise, so far as the actor, the declarer, and 
the promiser are concerned. 

There is in some men an infirmity with regard to promises, 
which often brings them into great embarrassment, and subjects 
others to severe disappointment. From the confusion, hesitation, 
or obscurity with which they express themselves, especially 
whenever harassed or taken by surprise, they sometimes encour- 
age expectations, and bring upon themselves demands, which 
probably never entered their imagination. This is not so much 
a want of integrity as of presence of mind.* 

II. In what cases promises are not binding. 

1. Promises are not binding, when the promiser is released 
by the promisee. This is too manifest to require illustration. 

2. Promises of infants, and of persons under alienation of 
mind, are not binding. Dr. Rutherforth's illustration of this is 
worth quoting. " No promise is binding," says he, " unless the 
person who made it, has liberty to choose for himself, and under- 
standing to direct him in his choice. Without these faculties of 
liberty and understanding, he is no moral agent, or is not capable 
of doing an act so as to produce any moral effect by it. Upon 
this account, the promises of infants, idiots, and madmen are not 
binding ; they are not moral agents, and are, therefore, unable to 
do any valid act." f 

3. Promises are not binding before acceptance, — that is, be- 
fore notice given to the promisee. But, where the promise is 
beneficial, if notice be given, acceptance may be presumed. 
Until the promise is communicated to the promisee, it is no 
more than a resolution in the mind of the promiser, which may 
be changed at pleasure. For no expectation has been excited, 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 75. 
t Institutes of Natural Law, p. 95. 



206 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

therefore none can be disappointed. But, in case I declare my 
intention to a third person, who, without any authority from me, 
conveys my declaration to the promisee, — > is that such a notice 
as will be binding on me ? Assuredly it is not ; for I have not 
done that which constitutes the essence of a promise. I have 
not voluntarily excited expectation.* 

4. A promise is not binding, where it is inconsistent with a 
previous promise. Dr. Ruiherforth illustrates this position thus ; 
"When we have once alienated a part of our liberty," says 
he, " it is not our own to dispose of again ; when we have given 
one man a demand upon us to act in a particular manner, we have 
parted with our liberty in this respect, and cannot give another 
man a demand upon us to act in a contrary manner. What is 
here said of promises, is equally true of all other sorts of volun- 
tary obligations. Any former obligation takes away the liberty 
of the person who is engaged in it ; and, where he has no liberty, 
he can do no act which will be valid, and consequently none 
which can be binding upon him. Indeed, upon any other suppo- 
sition, there would be no such thing as any possibility of a man's 
being obliged at all by his own act ; which in morality is deemed 
an absurdity. For, if a second obligation could make void the 
first, then a third might make void the second, and a fourth might 
make void the third, and so on without end."f If this illustra- 
tion is rather technical, still it is perfectly sound, and is valuable 
for its extensive application. 

5. Erroneous promises are not binding in certain cases. 

(1.) Where the error proceeds from the mistake or misrepre- 
sentation of the promisee. The reason of this is, that a promise 
evidently supposes the truth of the statement, which the promisee 
makes, in order to obtain it. A beggar solicits your alms by a 
story of the most pitiable distress ; you promise to relieve him 
if he will call again ; but in the interval you discover his story 
to be false ; this discovery, no doubt, releases you from your 
promise. Again, one who wants your services, describes the 
office or business for which he wishes to engage you, and you 
promise to undertake it ; when, however, you come to enter 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 70. 
t Institutes of Natural Law, p. 91. 



Chap. V.] (jJSEflVANCE OF PROMISES. 207 

upon it, you find the profits less, the labor more, or some mate- 
rial circumstance different from the representation which he gave 
you. Under such circumstances, you are not bound by your 
promise. 

(2.) When the promise is understood by the promisee to be 
based upon a certain state of facts, or when the promiser appre- 
hended it to be so understood, and this state of the facts turns out 
to be false, — the promise is not binding. An example will set 
this rule in a more clear light. A father receives an account 
from abroad, of the death of his only son, soon after which he 
promises his fortune to his nephew. The account turns out to 
be false. By this rule, the father is released from his. promise ; 
not merely because he never would have made it, had he known 
the true state of the facts, but because the nephew also himself 
understood the promise to proceed upon the supposition of his 
cousin's death ; or at least his uncle thought he so understood it, 
and could not think otherwise. The promise proceeded upon 
this supposition in the promiser's own apprehension, and, as he 
believed, in the apprehension of both parties ; and this belief 
on his part is the precise circumstance which sets him free. The 
foundation of the rule is manifestly this ; — a man is bound, as has 
been said before, to satisfy only the expectation which he intend- 
ed to excite ; any condition, therefore, to which he intended to 
subject, or by which he intended to limit, that expectation, be- 
comes, when known to the promisee, an essential condition of 
the promise. 

Errors which do not come within these two rules, do not annul 
the obligation of a promise. I promise a candidate my vote ; 
presently another candidate appears, for whom I certainly would 
have reserved it, had I been acquainted with his design. Here, 
therefore, as before, my promise proceeded from misapprehen- 
sion ; and I should never have given such a promise, had I been 
aware of all the circumstances of the case. But the promisee 
did not know this, nor did he receive the promise subject to the 
condition of the other candidate not appearing, or as proceeding 
from any such supposition ; nor did I at the time imagine, that 
he so received it. This error, therefore, of mine must fall on 
myself, and the promise be observed notwithstanding. In this 



tit 

208 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OFtMAjJKIND. [Part III. 

case, however, it is assumed, that the qualifications of the candi- 
dates are equal ; otherwise the elector (such is the nature of the 
elective franchise) must break through his promise, and prefer him 
who is best qualified. Again, a father promises a certain fortune 
with his daughter, supposing his estate to amount to a certain sum ; 
but upon examination, his affairs are in a worse condition than he 
was aware of. Here, also, the promise was erroneous ; but, for 
the reason assigned in the last case, will still be binding. 

The case of erroneous promises is attended with some diffi- 
culty ; — on the one hand, to allow every mistake or change of 
circumstances to dissolve the obligation of a promise, would be 
to admit a latitude which might set aside the force of almost all 
promises ; and, on the other hand, to gird the obligation so tight 
as to make no allowances for manifest and fundamental errors, 
would, in many instances, be productive of great hardship and 
even absurdity.* 

6. A promise is not binding when the performance is impossi- 
ble. As plain as this may seem at first sight, still it admits of 
some illustration. The promiser is guilty of fraud, if he is se- 
cretly aware of the impossibility, at the time of making the 
promise ; because, when any one promises any thing, his prom- 
ise implies, that he is convinced of the possibility of performing 
it, and no one can accept or understand a promise under any 
other supposition. With a knowledge of the impossibility of 
performance, the promiser is justly chargeable with a flagrant 
breach of good faith. If the promiser himself occasions the 
impossibility of performance, it is a still more flagrant breach of 
good faith ; as when a soldier or servant maims or otherwise 
disables himself, that he may avoid performing his engagements.! 

Again, it generally depends upon the promiser himself, wheth- 
er it shall be possible for him to perform his promises ; some act 
or some endeavours of his may be necessary to put him in such 
a situation as will make the performance possible. A promise, 
in this case, binds him to the doing of those acts, or to the using 
of those endeavours, though such acts and such endeavours are not 
mentioned in it ; since he who has obliged himself to the end, 



* See Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, pp. 80-82. 1 Idem, p. 75. 






Ghap. V.] OBSERVANCE OF PROMISES. 209 

cannot but be understood to have obliged himself to use the 
necessary means of attaining the end. It cannot be said to be 
impossible for a man to do any thing, which can be accomplished 
by his own acts or endeavours. A promise, therefore, of this 
sort is binding from the beginning ; and, though the promiser has 
not, in express terms, bound himself to do these acts or to use 
these endeavours, yet, if the possibility of performing what he 
has promised depends upon them, he is obliged to do them by 
virtue of his promise. 

7. A promise is not binding when the performance is im- 
moral.* Sometimes the performance of the promise is known 
to the parties to be immoral at the time when the promise was 
made, as where an assassin promises his employer to despatch his 
rival or his enemy, or a servant promises to betray his master. 
These promises and the like of them are not binding, because 
their performance is criminal ; their guilt, therefore, lies in the 
making, not in the breaking of them ; and if, in the interval be- 
tween the promise and the performance, conscience awakens and 
regains its rightful supremacy, the promiser will repent of his 
engagements, and will assuredly break through them. In these 
cases, the object of the promise is immoral, in the highest sense 
too ; and this makes the performance immoral, and therefore not 
binding. 

Again, sometimes the immorality of the performance did not 

* Rutherforth, and after him Dr. Paley, have used the term unlawful, where I 
have used immoral. The term unlawful does not seem to me to be either suffi- 
ciently definite or comprehensive. Dr. Rutherforth, indeed, appears to have 
been sensible of its want of comprehensiveness ; for he says, '* When I speak 
of unlawful promises, I do not mean those only by which we engage to give or 
do what the law of nature forbids to be given or to be done by us ; where the 
matter of a promise is forbidden by any other law, by the positive law of God, 
for instance, or by the law of the land, or by the commands of our lawful su- 
periors, as far as they have a right to command us, such a promise is void ; we 
have done nothing by making it ; and consequently have not obliged ourselves 
to the performance of it." (Institutes of Natural Law, p. 90.) The term im- 
moral is here used with reference to the standard of morals established and 
illustrated in my Preliminary Principles and Discussions, pp. 29-60; to wit, 
the dictates of conscience, when not disturbed by passion or blinded by prej- 
udice, and when enlightened and guided by the law of the land, the law of con- 
sequences (as it may well be called), and the divine law as contained in the 
Scriptures of the Old and New Testament. 

27 



210 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

exist, or was not known, at the time of making the promise ; as 
where a woman gives a promise of marriage, but, before the 
celebration of the marriage, she discovers that her intended hus- 
band is too nearly related to her, or that he has a wife yet living. 
In this class of cases, where the contrary does not appear, it 
must be presumed, that the parties supposed what was promised 
to be consistent with good morals, and that the promise pro- 
ceeded entirely upon this supposition. The morality of the 
performance, therefore, becomes a condition of the promise, 
which condition failing, the promise is not binding. 

Further, the tendency, motives, and subject-matter are ele- 
ments entering too intimately into the nature of a promise to 
be entirely neglected. Whenever the tendency of the promise 
is prejudicial to good morals, as seen in the consequences, or 
made manifest by argument, the promise is not binding ; for the 
evil tendency and effects impart their own character equally to 
the promise and the performance. The motives and intentions, 
too, of the promiser and promisee, or of either of them, and the 
subject-matter, may be so unmixedly evil, as to contaminate a 
promise, and render it void. Therefore, a promise to pay a 
bribe, or to reward the commission of a crime, after the service 
is rendered, is not binding. So in another case, on which, as 
well as on these, there has been a difference of opinion. A cer- 
tain person, in the lifetime of his wife, who was then ill, paid his 
addresses to another woman, and promised her marriage, in the 
event of his wife's death. The wife died, and the woman de- 
manded performance of the promise. The man, who, it seems, 
had changed his mind, either felt or pretended doubts concern- 
ing the obligation of a promise made under such circumstances, 
and referred his case for solution to Bishop Sanderson, who 
was, at that time, very distinguished for the kind of knowledge 
required for the solution. Bishop Sanderson, after writing a 
dissertation upon the question, adjudged the promise to be void. 
And well he might. For such conduct tends to destroy the 
sanctity of private life, is inconsistent with the marriage con- 
tract, and against religion and good morals. To consider such a 
promise binding is giving encouragement to wrong. Dr. Paley 



Chap. V.] OBSERVANCE OF PROMISES. 211 

decides the question the other way,* and attempts to separate the 
obligation to perform the promise, from the criminal affection 
which prompted it, and from the immoral tendency of the trans- 
action. But it seems to me, that the subject-matter, the motives 
of the parties, and the general tendency, character, and circum- 
stances of the entire transaction, ought to be viewed in connexion 
with the question of the performance of the promise, and as in- 
separable from it. If so, the opinion of Bishop Sanderson must 
be sustained. All the considerations of public policy are on 
the side of Bishop Sanderson's decision ; and this is further evi- 
dence of its soundness. For, considerations of public policy, and 
the principles of good morals, always coincide, when both are view- 
ed in all their connexions, tendencies, and influences.! 

A promise cannot be deemed immoral, where it produces, 
when performed, no effect beyond what would have taken place, 
had the promise never been made. And this is the single case, 
in which the obligation of a promise will justify a course of con- 
duct, which, unless it had been promised, would have been un- 
justifiable. A captive may rightfully recover his freedom by a 
promise of neutrality ; for his conqueror gains nothing by the 
promise, which he might not have secured by his confinement ; 
and neutrality will be innocent in him, although unjustifiable in 
another. It is manifest, however, that promises which are sub- 
stituted in the place of coercion, can extend no further than to 
passive compliances, for coercion itself could compel no more. 

Upon the same principle, promises of secrecy, in certain cases, 
ought not to be violated, although the public might derive ad- 
vantage from the disclosure. Such promises contain nothing 
in them which ought to destroy or impair their obligation ; for, 
as the information would not have been imparted upon any other 
condition, the public lose nothing by the promise, which they 
would have gained without it. This applies to the relation sub- 



* Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 78. 

t The views contained in this paragraph are fully sustained by the analogies 
of the purest branches of the law. See Story on " Constructive Fraud," in his 
"Commentaries on Equity Jurisprudence," pp. 290-324. And again, in his 
" Conflict of Laws," pp. 204, 209, 210, 213-215. This learned author seems 
to omit no fair occasion to bring into notice and enforce the morals of the law. 



212 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

sisting between a lawyer and his client, a confessor and the per- 
son confessing, both of which relations are highly confidential. 

Many writers on morals have laid down the position, that, 
where a perfect and an imperfect obligation clash, the perfect 
obligation is to be preferred. For this opinion, however, there 
seems to be no good reason, — the terms perfect and imperfect, 
cannot justify such a distinction. The distinction between du- 
ties of perfect and imperfect obligation, is a legal and technical, 
rather than a moral distinction. The former may be enforced 
by law, the latter must be left to the conscience of each indi- 
vidual. The moral philosopher looks at them both from the 
same elevated point of view. The specific performance, there- 
fore, of promises of every kind, so far as they are binding at all, 
is a perfect obligation. For, as the reason of the rule applies to 
all obligations, imperfect as well as perfect, the rule, that promises 
are void where the performance is immoral, extends to imper- 
fect as much as to perfect obligations. Thus, if you promise a 
man your vote, and, between the time of promise and perform- 
ance, he renders himself unfit to receive it, you are absolved 
from the obligation of your promise. Or if it be a case, in 
which you are bound, by oath or other obligation, to govern 
yourself by the qualifications of the candidates, and a candidate of 
higher qualifications appears, the promise must be broken through.* 

If the matter of a promise is impossible or immoral at the 
time of making it, but the circumstances are such as may be 
changed, and a change in the promiser's circumstances may 
render it possible, or consistent with good morals, for him to 
perform his promise at some time hereafter, it is binding. The 
meaning of the promiser at the time must have been this, — 
that he would give the thing or do the act promised, whenever 
it should be in his power, or whenever, by any change in his 
circumstances, it should become consistent with good morals. 
The obligation of such promises, in the mean time, is in suspense, 
but is revived when the event happens which renders the per- 
formance of them possible or moral. f 



* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 76- 79. 
t Rutherforth's Institutes of Natural Law, p. 91. 



Chap. V.] OBSERVANCE OF PROMISES. 213 

Again, a promise is a personal concern, and the obligations of 
a man's promise do not descend to his heirs. Promises are obli- 
gations upon his person only, — they do not affect his property. 
All obligations, which reach no farther than the person of the 
promiser, cease with his person. And, since the obligations of 
promises are of this sort, it is matter of liberality and indulgence 
only, when the heir to an estate undertakes to make good the 
promises of his ancestor.* 

Moreover, it may be well to recommend a caution, to young 
persons especially, from the neglect of which many have involved 
themselves in embarrassment and disgrace ; that is, never to 
give a promise which may in any event interfere with their duty. 
For, if it so interferes, their duty must be discharged, though at 
the expense of their promise, and usually, in a measure, of their 
reputation, f 

Finally, when a promise is made to God, it is called a vow. 
The use of vows occurs occasionally in the Scriptures ; Moses 
enacted several laws for the regulation and execution of them. 
" When thou shalt vow a vow unto the Lord thy God," says he, 
w thou shalt not slack to pay it ; for the Lord thy God will surely 
require it of thee ; and it would be sin in thee. But, if thou shalt 
forbear to vow, it shall be no sin in thee." J We have instances 
of vows too, in the New Testament. § The practice of mak- 
ing vows, therefore, finds authority, if not direct encouragement, 
in the Old and New Testament. They partake also, in some 
measure, of the nature of oaths, and their influence in strength- 
ening and perpetuating good intentions and resolutions seems 
manifest. The violation of them is sinful, as it implies a want of 
reverence and regard to the Supreme Being. We may conclude 
with the wise man ; " When thou vowest a vow unto God, 
defer not to pay it ; for he hath no pleasure in fools (that is, 
rash and vain persons) ; pay that which thou hast vowed. 
Better is it that thou shouldst not vow, than that thou shouldst 
vow and not pay." [| 

* Rutherforth's Institutes of Natural Law, p. 90. 

t Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 77. 

J Deut. xxiii. 21, 22. § Acts xviii. 18 ; xxi. 23. || Eccl. v. 4, 5. 



214 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 



CHAPTER VI. 

OBSERVANCE OF CONTRACTS. 

A contract has been defined to be, the assent of two or 
more minds to the same thing. The minds of both parties, it is 
said, must be brought to act upon the same subject-matter, and 
must concur in opinion respecting it. But by a definition better 
suited to my purpose, because more easily applied, and capable 
of a more distinct and easy analysis, a contract is a mutual prom- 
ise. Hence, contracts, in respect to their obligation, to the sense 
in which they are to be interpreted, and the cases in which they 
are not binding, are subject to the same rules as promises. 

From the principles before established, that the obligation of 
promises is to be measured by the expectation which the prom- 
iser in any way, voluntarily and knowingly, excites, * results the 
rule, which (in foro conscientice) governs the construction of all 
contracts, and which is capable, from its simplicity, of being ap- 
plied with great ease and certainty ; to wit, that whatever is ex- 
pected by one party, and Tcnown to be so expected by the other, 
is to be deemed, a part or condition of the contract, f But as 
contracts are so much more the object of municipal law, than of 
moral philosophy, I shall not dwell much upon them. A few 
general observations, however, relative to the connexion between 
law and morals, and their respective bearing on each other, so far 
as this subject is concerned, may be useful. 

1. There is a gratifying and instructive coincidence between 
the rules of Christian morals, and the rules and doctrines of the 
law, in regard to contracts. ec No man can be heard in a court of 
justice, to enforce a contract founded in, or arising from, moral or 
political turpitude." Again, " As far as it can be enforced by 
human sanctions, the rule of the municipal law is identical with 
the golden precept taught by Christianity, of doing to others as 

* See pp. 202, 204. t Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 83. 



Chap. VI.] OBSERVANCE OF CONTRACTS. 215 

we would that they should do to ourselves." Moreover, " Where 
the law cannot separate the honest from the fraudulent parts of 
any transaction, it provides for its own imbecility, by sternly re- 
pudiating the whole."* 

By the rule of the common law, if there be an intentional con- 
cealment or suppression of material facts in the making of a con- 
tract, in cases in which both parties have not equal access to the 
means of information, it will be deemed unfair dealing, and will 
vitiate and avoid the contract. There may be some difference in 
the facility with which the rule applies, between facts and circum- 
stances that are intrinsic, and form material ingredients of the 
contract, and those that are extrinsic, and form no component 
part of it ; though they create inducements to enter into the:, 
contract, or affect the price of the article. 

As a general rule, each party is bound, in every case, to com- 
municate to the other his knowledge of material facts, provided 
he knows the other to be ignorant of them, and they be not open 
and naked, or equally within the reach of his observation. Thus, 
in the sale of a ship which had a latent defect known to the seller, 
and which the buyer could not by any attention possibly discover, 
the seller was held to be bound to disclose it, and the conceal- 
ment was justly considered to be a breach of honesty and good 
faith. So, if one party suffers the other to buy an article under 
a delusion created by his own conduct, it will be deemed fraud- 
ulent and fatal to the contract ; — ■ as, if the seller, by his acts, 
produces an impression upon the mind of the buyer, that he is 
purchasing a picture belonging to a person of great skill in paint- 
ing, which the seller knows not to be the fact, and yet suffers 
the impression to remain, though he knows it materially enhances 
the value of the picture in the mind of the buyer. The seller 
must not practise any artifice to conceal defects, or make any 
representations for the purpose of throwing the buyer off his 
guard. 

The same principle was declared by Lord Hardwicke, when 
he stated, that, if a vendor, knowing of an incumbrance upon an 
estate, sells without disclosing the fact, and with knowledge that 

* Story, Conflict of Laws, p. 204. — Manuscript Lecture of Simon Green- 
leaf, Esq., Royall Professor of Law in Harvard University. 



216 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

the purchaser is a stranger to it, and under representations in- 
ducing him to buy, he acts fraudulently, and violates integrity and 
fair dealing. The inference of fraud is easily and almost inevi- 
tably drawn, when there is a suppression or concealment of 
material circumstances, and one of the contracting parties is 
knowingly suffered to deal under a delusion. 

So, the selling an unsound article for a sound price, knowing 
it to be unsound, is actionable. It is equivalent to the conceal- 
ment of a latent defect. The same rule applies to the case 
where a party pays money in ignorance of circumstances with 
which the receiver is acquainted, and does not disclose, and 
which, if disclosed, would have prevented the payment. In 
that case, the parties do not deal on equal terms ; and the money 
is held to be unfairly obtained, and repayment may be compelled. 
It applies also to the case, where a person takes a guaranty from 
a surety, and conceals from him facts which go to increase his 
risk, and suffers him to enter into the contract under false im- 
pressions. Such concealment is held to be fraud, and vitiates 
the contract. 

But, if the defects in the article sold, are open equally to the 
observation of both parties, the law does not require the vendor 
to aid and assist the observation of the vendee. Even a warran- 
ty will not cover defects that are plainly the objects of the senses ; 
though if the vendor says or does any thing whatever, with an 
intention to divert the eye, or obscure the observation, of the 
buyer, even in relation to open defects, he will be guilty of an act 
of fraud. An inference of fraud may be made, not only from 
deceptive assertions and false representations, but from facts, 
incidents, and circumstances, which may be trivial in themselves, 
but decisive evidence, in the given case, of a fraudulent design. 

When, however, the means of information relative to facts and 
circumstances affecting the value of the commodity, are equally 
accessible to both parties, and neither of them does or says any 
thing tending to impose on the other, the disclosure of any supe- 
rior knowledge which one party may have over the other, as to 
those facts and circumstances, is not requisite to the validity of a 
contract. There is no breach of any implied confidence, that 
one party will not profit by his superior knowledge, as to facts 



Chap. VI.] OBSERVANCE OF CONTRACTS. 217 

and circumstances open to the observation of both parties, or 
equally within the reach of their ordinary diligence ; because 
neither party reposes in any such confidence, unless it be special- 
ly tendered or required. Each one, in ordinary cases, judges 
for himself, and relies upon the sufficiency of his own knowledge, 
skill, and diligence. 

The common law affords to every one reasonable protection 
against fraud in dealing, but it does not go to the romantic length 
of giving indemnity against the consequences of indolence and 
folly, or of careless indifference to the ordinary and accessible 
means of information. It reconciles the claims of convenience 
with the duties of good faith, to every extent compatible with the 
interests of commerce ; meaning by the term commerce, every 
kind of ordinary intercourse in the way of business transactions. 

This it does, by requiring the purchaser to apply his attention 
to those particulars which may be supposed within the reach of 
his observation and judgment ; and the vendor to communicate 
those particulars and defects which cannot be supposed to be im- 
mediately within the reach of such attention.* Chancellor Kent 
is of the opinion, that the common law has carried the doctrine 
of disclosures by each party in the formation of the contract of 
sale, to every reasonable and practicable extent, that is consistent 
with the interests of society. f cc The only difference " (in 
regard to disclosures) "between writers on the highest branches 
of the moral law, and the doctrines of our own judicial tribunals 
is, that, while both hold it to be the duty of the seller to disclose 
all the defects or impairing circumstances within his knowledge, 
the common law, on account of the difficulty of enforcing the rule 
in all cases, and the disorders it might sometimes occasion in 
society, draws a line of distinction between circumstances which 
are open equally to the observation of both parties, and those 
which are within the knowledge and reach of one alone. The 
concealment of the latter it punishes." J 

On this subject, the civil law, as stated by the learned and 

* Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. II. pp. 377-380. 

t Idem. Vol. II. p. 384. 

t Manuscript Lecture of Professor Greenleaf, of Harvard University. 

28 



218 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

accurate Pothier, which is the law of the greatest part of conti- 
nental Europe, and the basis of the code of Louisiana, is rather 
more severe in its requisitions, than the common law of England 
or of the United States. He says, " Although, in many trans- 
actions of civil society, the rules of good faith only require us to 
refrain from falsehood, and permit us to conceal from others that 
which they have an interest in knowing, if we have an equal 
interest in concealing it from them, yet in interested (pecuniary) 
contracts, among which is the contract of sale, good faith not 
only forbids the assertion of falsehood, but all reservation con- 
cerning that which the person with whom we contract has an 
interest in knowing, touching the thing which is the subject of 
the contract."* " In the application of this rule, the same 
commentator is of opinion, that the seller is obliged to disclose 
to the buyer every circumstance within his knowledge relating to 
the subject, which the latter has an interest in knowing ; and that 
he sins against the good faith which ought to reign in these trans- 
actions, if he conceals any such circumstances."! 

2. There are, too, some branches of our own law, which, in 
regard to contracts, are said to be more strictly in conformity 
with the decisions of an enlightened conscience, than the com- 
mon law. This is affirmed to be true of equity jurisprudence.^ 
Yet this superior perfection, claimed in behalf of equity, pertains 
rather to the means and facilities, which it is permitted to use, in 
order to attain its end, to the manner in which it grants relief and 
applies its remedies, and to the extent of its jurisdiction, than to 
the object at which it aims ; to wit, the attainment of the great- 
est possible measure of justice and rectitude, — which object is 
not less the aim of the common law. There are " latent frauds 
and concealments, which the process of courts of common law 
is not adapted to reach." The object of equity is, to open the 
breasts of parties, and " courts of equity address themselves to 
the conscience of the defendant, and require him to answer, upon 
his oath, the matters of fact stated in the bill, if they are within 

* Wheaton's Reports, Vol. II. p. 185, note. 

t Manuscript Lecture of Professor Greenleaf, of Harvard University. 

+ Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. II. pp. 382-385. 



Chap. VI.] OBSERVANCE OF CONTRACTS. 219 

his knowledge ; and he is compellable to give a full account of 
all such facts, with all their circumstances, without evasion or 
equivocation." * 

Again, the law of marine insurance is another branch of our 
law, for which this superior perfection has been claimed. But 
the contract of insurance is formed upon principles peculiar to 
itself; and the common-law doctrine of sales, and the doctrine of 
insurance, are each perfectly consistent with the facts, and the 
mutual understanding, which they respectively assume. In an 
insurance contract, an unreserved disclosure of all the circum- 
stances is required by the nature of the case, and by the mutual 
understanding of the parties. This will be more fully illustrated 
by observing, that, in making an insurance contract, the insurer 
is essentially passive, and is known to act, and professes to act, 
upon the information of the insured. In this kind of contract, 
the special facts, upon which the contingent chance is to be 
computed, lie almost always in the knowledge of the insured 
only. The insurer trusts to his representation, and proceeds in 
the confidence, that be does not withhold any circumstance with- 
in his knowledge. Even if the suppression happens through 
mistake, and without any intention of fraud on the part of the 
insured, the policy is void. The common law punishes only for 
intentional concealment of defects, or silence respecting them, in 
cases in which information is not equally accessible to both 
parties. 

The standard of morals, too, set up for the commercial com- 
munity by the commercial law, is very high. " It is one of the 
cardinal principles of commercial law, that all its affairs must be 
conducted with perfect good faiths Again, "It is the aim of 
all law to secure the observance of good faith in all transactions. 
The law is said to abhor fraud everywhere, in all its degrees ; — 
it requires of the suppliant for justice, in any form, that he should 
approach its altars with clean hands. But, where the necessity for 
the rule is the most pressing, and the temptations to evade it the 
most severe, the law, perhaps in compassion to human infirmity, 
employs the greatest vigilance, and exacts the most inviolate 

* Story's Equity Jurisprudence, V<I. I. pp. 25-30. 



220 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

integrity. Hence, the prominent rank which this principle holds 
in mercantile law, and the high and commanding tone of its stern 
morality in the rules it prescribes for the government and conduct 
of merchants." In regard to the numerous and important agen- 
cies known to mercantile transactions, the law with evident rea- 
sonableness requires, "that the trust of every agent be executed 
with the most scrupulous fidelity and exactness ; that he pay 
careful obedience to the orders of his employers ; that he con- 
sult their advantage in matters referred to his discretion ; that he 
execute their business with all the despatch that circumstances 
will admit ; that he be early in his intelligence, distinct in his ac- 
counts, and punctual in his correspondence." These injunctions 
apply to every one who undertakes to transact the business of 
another, or to perform for him any act on which his interest de- 
pends. " To remove all temptation from the agent to violate 
the rule requiring his intercourse with his principal to be open, 
frank, pure, prompt, and even above suspicion, which is so neces- 
sary to the security of trade and commerce, the law allows him, 
in no case, to enrich himself beyond his stipulated or customary 
compensation, by the property confided to his care." " The 
law requires at his hands the most inviolable integrity, and, to 
preserve him from the temptation to do wrong, it puts it out of 
his power to do it with success." # 

Thus every branch of the law enforces the precepts of good 
morals, so far as it is in its power to enforce them. But its 
power is limited ; it cannot reach the many duties that belong to 
the class of imperfect obligations ; these must be left to the con- 
sciences of individuals. Their nature is such, that human laws 
do not and cannot undertake to enforce them ; and in this respect 
the rules of no department of the law, are so perfect as the dic- 
tates of conscience ; and the sphere of morality is more enlarged 
than the limits of civil jurisdiction.! 

3. The principles of Christian morals are recognised as the 
standard of the rules of law, and every contract or agreement 
inconsistent with good morals in a very extensive use of that 

* Manuscript Lecture of Professor Greenleaf, of Harvard University, 
t See p. 31. 



Chap. VI.] OBSERVANCE OF CONTRACTS. 221 

phrase, is against law, and void. u The reports, in every period 
of the English jurisprudence," says Chancellor Kent, u abound 
with cases of contracts held illegal on account of the illegality of 
the consideration ; and they contain striking illustrations of the 
general rule, that contracts are illegal when founded on a con- 
sideration contra bonos mores, or one against the principles of 
sound policy, or founded in fraud, or in contravention of the 
positive provisions of some statute law." The Roman law con- 
tains the same salutary doctrine. " Pacta, quae contra leges con- 
stitutionesque, vel contra bonos mores fiunt, nullam vim habere, 
indubitati juris est." * " Pacta, quae turpem causam continent, 
non sunt observanda." f It will be instructive to review the 
several classes of contracts and agreements adverted to by 
this learned jurist, and, to this end, I shall freely avail myself 
of the assistance of Mr. Justice Story, of the Supreme Court 
of the United States. 

(I.) Contracts are illegal and void, which are against good 
morals, religion, or public rights. It is not necessary, that 
such contracts should be prohibited by statute ; it suffices to ren- 
der them void, that they are founded upon considerations of 
moral turpitude.^ The rule of the Roman law quoted in the 
preceding paragraph, is nothing more than the language of uni- 
versal justice. It applies a preventive check, by withholding 
every encouragement from wrong, and aims thereby to enforce 
the obligations of virtue. " For although the law, as a science, 
must necessarily leave many moral precepts as rules of imper- 
fect obligation only, it is most studious not thereby to lend the 
slightest countenance to the violations of such precepts. Wher- 

* Cod. Lib. II. tit. 3, 6. i Dig. Lib. II. tit. 14, 27, § 4. 

% This principle of contracts reflects light upon the doctrine of promises as 
discussed in the last chapter. For, if a contract, which is a mutual promise, is 
against law and void in a human tribunal, when " founded upon considerations 
of moral turpitude" ; assuredly, a single promise, when founded upon the same 
considerations, such as the case mentioned at p. 210, prompted by unhallowed 
passions, violating decency, against public policy in the best sense of that 
phrase, and tending to corrupt society, must be against good morals and void 
in the tribunal of conscience. Perhaps, the case mentioned at p. 210, ought to 
be regarded as a contract between the parties, and if so, it was not binding, on 
the general principle, that " contracts founded upon considerations of moral 
turpitude" are not binding. 



222 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

ever the divine law, or positive law, or the common law, pro- 
hibits the doing of certain acts, or enjoins the discharge of cer- 
tain duties, any agreement to do such acts, or not to discharge 
such duties, is against the dearest interests of society, and, there- 
fore, is held void ; for otherwise the law would be open to the 
just reproach of winking at crimes or omissions, or tolerating 
in one form, what it affected to reprobate in another." Hence, 
all contracts (including bonds and other securities) for the 
printing and circulation of irreligious and obscene publications ; 
contracts to promote or reward the commission of crimes ; con- 
tracts to corrupt or evade the due administration of justice ; 
contracts to defraud the public agents, or to defeat the public 
rights ; all gaming contracts ; and, in short, all contracts which in 
their nature are founded in moral turpitude, and are inconsistent 
with the good order and interests of society, are invalid, and 
incapable of confirmation and enforcement.* 

(2.) In like manner, agreements which are founded upon 
violations of public trust or confidence, or the rules adopted by 
courts in furtherance of the administration of public justice, are 
held void. Thus, an agreement made for a remuneration to 
commissioners, appointed to take testimony, and bound to se- 
crecy by the nature of their appointment, upon their disclosure 
of the testimony so taken, is void. So, an assignment of the 
half-pay of a retired officer of the army is void ; for it operates 
as a fraud upon the public bounty. Agreements, founded upon 
the suppression of criminal prosecutions, fall under the same 
consideration ; for they have a manifest tendency to subvert pub- 
lic justice. So, wager contracts, which are contrary to sound 
morals, or injurious to the feelings or interests of third persons, 
or against the principles of public policy or duty, are void.f 

(3.) Contracts for the buying, selling, or procuring of pub- 
lic offices are inconsistent with the principles of sound policy, 
and are, therefore, illegal and void. It is obvious, that all such 
contracts must have a material influence to diminish the respect- 
ability, responsibility, and purity of public officers, and to intro- 
duce a system of official patronage, corruption, and deceit, 



* Story's Equity Jurisprudence, Vol. I. p. 293, 294. t Idem. p. 291. 



Chap. VI.] OBSERVANCE OF CONTRACTS. 223 

entirely at war with the public interests. The confidence of 
public officers may thereby not only be abused and perverted to 
the worst purposes, but mischievous combinations may be formed 
to the injury of the public, and persons introduced into the 
public offices, or retained in them, who are utterly unqualified 
to discharge the proper functions of their stations. Such con- 
tracts are justly deemed contracts of moral turpitude ; and are 
calculated to betray the public interests into the hands of the 
weak, the selfish, the cunning, and the profligate. They are, 
therefore, held utterly void, as contrary to the soundest public 
policy ; and, indeed, as a constructive fraud upon the govern- 
ment. They are against the spirit of the constitution of a free 
country, whose offices ought to be filled by fit and well-qualified 
persons, recommended for their abilities, and from motives of 
disinterested purity. It has been well remarked, that there is 
no rule better established (in law and reason, however much it 
may be otherwise in practice,) respecting the disposition of 
every office, in which the public are concerned, than this ; 
Detur digniori. On principles of public policy, no pecu- 
niary consideration ought to influence the appointment to such 
offices. It was observed in ancient times, that the sale of 
offices was one of the leading causes which accomplished the 
ruin of the Roman republic. Nulla alia, re magis Romana 
respublica interiit, quam quod magistrates officia venalia erant.* 
(4.) There are certain illegal and void contracts of a miscel- 
laneous character, which deserve a passing notice in this con- 
nexion. Such are contracts made in evasion or fraud of the 
laws of the country, or against its public policy and interest. 
This principle embraces, not only contracts arising immediately 
from, and connected with, an illegal transaction, but, within 
certain limits, new contracts, if they are in part connected with 
the illegal transaction, and arise immediately from it. It em- 
braces, too, ct agreements, whereby parties engage not to bid 
against each other at a public auction, especially in cases where 
such auctions are directed or required by law, as in cases of sales 
of chattels or other property on execution." Such agreements 

* Story's Equity Jurisprudence, Vol. I. pp. 292, 293. 



224 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

u operate virtually as a fraud upon the sale ; they are unconscien- 
tious (against conscience) and against public policy, and have a 
tendency injuriously to affect the character and value of sales by 
public auction, and mislead private confidence." So, if the 
artifice of by-bidding is resorted to at an auction to enhance 
the price, and deceive the real bidders, and they are in fact misled, 
the sale will be held void, as against public policy. Again, 
gaming contracts are not only prohibited by statute, but are, in 
their nature, highly immoral, as the practice of gaming tends to 
idleness, dissipation, and the ruin of families. u No one has 
doubted, that, under such circumstances, a bill in equity might be 
maintained, to have any gaming security delivered up and can- 
celled." And it is settled, " that, if money is paid upon a 
gaming security, it may be recovered back, for the security is 
utterly void. The Roman law, too, contains a most salutary 
enforcement of moral justice upon this subject. " It not only 
protects the loser against tiny liability to pay the money won in 
gaming ; but, if he has paid the money, he and his heirs have a 
right to recover it back at any distance of time, and no presump- 
tion or limitation of time runs against the claim." * 

(5.) The learned author to whose aid I am indebted for sever- 
al of the last paragraphs, has examined the question, how far a 
contract of sale is rendered invalid, by the circumstance of the 
seller's knowing, at the time of the sale, that the article sold is 
to be converted by the buyer to an unlawful and immoral pur- 
pose. The general doctrine is well settled, that the considera- 
tion for which a contract is made must be legal, and even meri- 
torious, consistent with good morals, and not against public policy 
and the interests of society. But the result of the " decisions " 
seems to be, " that mere knowledge of the illegal purpose for 
which goods are purchased, will not affect the validity of the 
contract of sale of goods intended to be smuggled into a foreign 
country, even in the courts of that country." It seems, that, to 
render the contract invalid, "there must be some participation or 
interest in the act itself." And yet, in an extreme case, Chief 
Justice Eyre said, that, the seller "would not be allowed to 

* Story's Equity Jurisprudence, Vol. I. pp. 290, 302, 303. —Conflict of Laws, 
p. 205. 



Chap. VI.] OBSERVANCE OF CONTRACTS. 225 

maintain an action upon his contract," because, the consideration 
of the contract, though in itself good, was, in the case in question, 
tainted with turpitude, which destroyed the whole merit of it. 
" Other cases," continues he, "where the means of transgressing 
a law are furnished, with the knowledge, that they are intended to 
be used for that purpose, will differ in shade more or less from 
this strong case ; but the body of the color is the same in all. 
Upon the principles of the common law, the consideration of 
every valid contract must be meritorious. No man ought to fur- 
nish another with the means of transgressing the law, knowing 
that he intended to make that use of them." Every good man 
must unite with Mr. Justice Story, in commending " the sound 
sense, sound morals, and enlarged policy of this doctrine." It is, 
as he well says, "almost irresistible to the judgment." Again, 
on another occasion, in the Court of King's Bench, Lord Ellen- 
borough said, u If a person sell goods with a knowledge, and in 
furtherance of the buyer's intention to convey them upon a smug- 
gling adventure, he is not permitted by the policy of the law to 
recover such a sale." In this opinion the other members of the 
court concurred. One of them added, u If a principal sell arti- 
cles in order to enable the vendee to use them for illegal pur- 
poses, he cannot recover the price." The latest English decision 
has firmly sustained the same doctrine. # 

(6.) It may be well to illustrate this subject still further, by 
adverting " to the nature and extent of the relief which will be 
granted to persons, who are parties to agreements or other tran- 
sactions against public policy, and, therefore, are to be deemed 
pariicipes criminis" " The old cases often gave relief both at 
law and in equity, where, without such relief, the party would 
derive an advantage from his iniquity." But in the more modern 
administration of justice, a more severely just, and probably poli- 
tic and moral rule, has been generally, though not universally, 
adopted ; which is, to leave the parties where it finds them, giving 
no relief, and no countenance, to claims made under illegal con- 
tracts and other illegal transactions. u But, in cases where the 
agreements or other transactions are repudiated, on account of 

* Story's " Commentaries on the Conflict of Laws," pp. 209, 210. 

29 



226 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

their being against public policy, the circumstance, that the relief 
is asked by a party who is jparticeps criminis, is not in equity 
material. The reason is, that the public interest requires, that 
relief should be given ; and it is given to the public through the 
party. And in these cases relief will be granted, not only by 
setting aside the agreement or other transaction ; but in many 
cases, by ordering a repayment of any money paid under it." 
The most effectual way of discountenancing and suppress- 
ing illegal contracts (the same may be said of promises) and 
other like transactions is, to leave the parties without remedy 
against each other, and thus introduce " a preventive check, natu- 
rally connected with a want of confidence, and a sole reliance 
upon personal honor. And so, accordingly, the modern doctrine 
is established. Relief is not granted, where both parties are 
truly in pari delicto, (equally guilty,) unless in cases where public 
policy would thereby be promoted." * 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 

Cicero quotes, with much commendation, the sentiment from 
Plato, that we are not born for ourselves alone, but that our coun- 
try and our friends may both rightfully claim a share in us, — that 
is, in our affections and our exertions, f This sentiment of 
Plato, by which we are exhorted to look beyond ourselves and 
the immediate objects of our personal interest, so far as to em- 
brace our friends and our country in the more ample pale of our 
regard, is expanded and extended in the Christian Scriptures, in a 
manner entirely unknown to antiquity ; J and so as to make it our 
duty to embrace all mankind, of whatever complexion, name, or 
condition, in the unlimited sphere of our good-will. " All things 
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so 

* Story's Equity Jurisprudence, Vol. I. pp. 295-298. 
t De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 7. } See pp. 44-50, 



Chap. VII] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE, 227 

to them ; for this is the law and the, prophets." * " As we have 
therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially 
unto them who are of the household of faith." f Again, " I say 
unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good 
to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use 
you and persecute you ; that ye may be the children of your 
Father which is in heaven ; for he maketh his sun to rise on the 
evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the 
unjust. For if ye love them" (only) "which love you, what 
reward have ye ? Do not even the publicans the same ? And 
if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others ? 
Do not even the publicans so ? Be ye therefore perfect " (in 
your good-will), "even as your Father in heaven is perfect." J 
Moreover, the parable of the good Samaritan teaches us, that 
we are to make ourselves useful to all men without distinction, as 
circumstances may require, and occasion may be presented. I 
propose to review some of the ways by which we may exercise 
and make manifest this expansive good-will ; and, to this end, 
convenience and clearness will be consulted, by distributing what 
I have to say into several distinct sections. 

SECTION I. 

ASSISTANCE GIVEN IN THE WAY OF ADVICE. 

Men may render one another much mutual aid by advice, good 
counsel, encouragement, &c, given in a spirit of sympathy and 
friendship. We have only to look into the records of biography 
to be convinced, that much good may be done in this way, to the 
young, the ignorant, the retiring, and the inexperienced. As 
ships at sea without a helm are driven in whatever way the winds 
and currents may chance to waft them, so the course of such 
persons is generally unsettled, and is often turned in a particular 
direction by a single observation, let fall by an individual of supe- 
rior talents, experience, and influence. General remarks of this 
kind, however, are accustomed to make but a slight impression, 

Matt vii. 12 I Gnl vi. 10 | Matt. v. 44 -48, 



228 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part IIL 

when unaccompanied by circumstantial details ; I presume, there- 
fore, I may be permitted to illustrate this observation, by advert- 
ing to a particular instance, as instructive as it is authentic. 

The renown of the celebrated Roger Sherman, of Connecti- 
cut, is known to us all ; he was a distinguished statesman, and 
one of the signers of the Declaration of American Independ- 
ence. His biographer says of him ; < — " Mr. Sherman, at the 
first period of his professional elevation, could not fail to recur 
with pleasing and grateful emotions to the moment when he, per- 
haps for the first time, appeared in the presence of a lawyer, for 
the purpose of procuring his advice. A neighbour or acquaint- 
ance, in transacting some affairs relative to the family of a de- 
ceased person, required the assistance of legal counsel. As 
Mr. Sherman, then a young man, was going to the county town, 
he was commissioned to obtain it from an eminent lawyer. To 
prevent embarrassment, and secure the accurate representation 
of the case, he committed it to paper, as well as he could, be- 
fore he left home. In stating the case, the gentleman with whom 
he was consulting observed, that Mr. Sherman frequently re- 
curred to a manuscript which he held in his hand. As it was 
necessary to make an application, by way of petition, to the 
proper tribunal, he desired the paper to be left in his hands, pro- 
vided it contained a statement of the case from which the peti- 
tion might be framed. Mr. Sherman consented with reluctance, 
telling him, that it was merely a memorandum drawn up for him- 
self, for his own convenience. The lawyer, after reading it, 
remarked, with an expression of surprise, that, with a few alter- 
ations in form, it was equal to any petition which he could have 
prepared himself, and that no other was requisite. Having then 
made some inquiries relative to Mr. Sherman's situation and 
prospects in life, he advised him to devote his attention to the 
study of the law. But his circumstances and duties did not 
permit him to follow this counsel ; the numerous family, which 
the recent death of his father had made, in a considerable degree, 
dependent on him for their support and education, required his 
constant exertions in other employments. But the intimation 
which he then received, that his mind was fitted to higher pur- 
suits, and that he probably possessed talents adapted to the trans- 



Chap. VlL] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 229 

action of public business, no doubt induced him, at that early 
period of life, to devote his leisure moments to those studies 
which led him (from being a shoe-maker) to honor and distinc- 
tion." # A careful examination of biography in general, could 
not fail to bring to light many similar instances ; and how many 
more must have occurred, which never found their way into the 
collections of biography. 

SECTION II. 

ASSISTANCE GIVEN IN THE WAY OF OUR EMPLOYMENTS AND 

PROFESSIONS. 

Men may mutually assist one another by rendering aid in the 
way of their employments or professions. Especially is this the 
case with members of the more liberal professions and employ- 
ments ; such as legislators, officers of various grades in the 
civil, military, and naval service, lawyers, physicians, clergymen, 
&c. A legislator has it in his power to accomplish salutary re- 
forms by introducing remedies for existing evils and abuses, and 
to contribute to the welfare of his country by originating and 
advocating wise and salutary measures. Frequently, too, indi- 
viduals, and classes of men, have just private interests to be 
advanced by legislation, and in this way the office of legislator 
may subserve the claims of private justice. A civil magistrate, 
(a justice of the peace, for instance,) who unites a requisite share 
of legal information with industry, firmness, consistency, and 
perseverance, may be of the greatest service to his entire neigh- 
bourhood, by a vigorous, impartial, and at the same time temper- 
ate administration of the laws. An upright and active magistrate 
is no ordinary blessing to the community in which he resides. 
Such magistrates " are for the punishment of evil doers, and 
for the praise of thern that do well." f 

A lawyer may do great good to his neighbourhood by advis- 
ing the amicable adjustment of disputes, and lending his aid to 
this effect ; and particularly by discouraging suits between near 

* Sanderson's Lives of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence, 
Vol. III. p. 210. 
t 1 Peter ii. 14, 



230 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

relatives, and such as appear to originate in motives of personal 
pique, malice, or revenge. He may be useful, too, in cases 
where suits are inevitable, in allaying the bitterness and animos- 
ity of the contending parties. On the other hand, no man has 
it in his power to disturb society so much as the lawyer, by ex- 
citing animosities, fomenting quarrels, and otherwise stirring up 
the elements of discord. "It is scarcely possible," says Gis- 
borne, " to calculate the injury done to individuals and to the 
public, by a lawyer who foments quarrels and encourages litiga- 
tion ; who takes fraudulent advantages ; who imposes on the 
simplicity of witnesses ; who heaps expenses on his employers 
by recommending needless consultations, by promoting artificial 
delays and suggesting circuitous methods of proceeding, by 
drawing out deeds and other instruments to an extravagant and 
unnecessary length, and by immoderate charges for his personal 
trouble and attendance ; who betrays the private concerns of one 
man, or of one family, to another ; or practises any of the innu- 
merable devices of unprincipled chicanery, by which contests 
are excited or prolonged, the demands of justice resisted or 
eluded, and dishonest emoluments obtained or pursued."* 

The spiritual functions of the clergy, bring them into friendly 
and confidential relations with every class of mankind, from the 
humblest to the highest ; and this peculiarity in the nature of 
their office gives them constant facilities for rendering themselves 
useful to every grade of society, by promoting peace, giving 
instruction and advice, and administering consolation to all, as 
occasion is from day to day presented. Every member of a 
congregation may well expect to find in his pastor a friend and a 
confidential adviser ; a man " ready to every good work."f No 
one of the private professions, however, puts it in a man's power 
to do so much good at a small expense, as the profession of 
medicine. Health, which is precious to men of every condition, 
is to the poor invaluable, — it is their all. And with respect to 
expense, the price of medicines, at first hand, is small, and the 
cost of advice is nothing, where it is given to those only who are 
without the means of paying for it 4 

* Inquiry into the Duties of Men in the higher Classes of Society in Great 
Britain, Vol. I. p. 342 

J Titus iii. 1 i Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy.- p 169 



Chap, VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 231 

SECTION III. 

ASSISTANCE GIVEN IN THE WAY OF JUDICIOUS PATRONAGE 

AND ENCOURAGEMENT. 

Much good may be done in the way of patronage and encour- 
agement judiciously bestowed on worthy persons, either by giv- 
ing them business, introducing them to those who have business 
to give, furnishing them with loans of money to be repaid after 
some time, with or without interest, giving them an education, 
or aiding them in obtaining one, &c. Many, in every age, who 
have been eminently useful and successful in life, have testified, 
that they were indebted for all their success, and consequently 
for their usefulness, to the timely assistance given them by an 
individual, or a few individuals, in the way of business intrusted 
to them. A mere introduction and recommendation to men en- 
gaged in extensive business, and having much occasion, there- 
fore, to employ others, has often led to the like result. On the 
other hand, thousands of meritorious young men, who might 
have been useful and valuable citizens, perhaps ornaments to their 
country, have sunk under depression, despondency, and despair, 
for want of the timely assistance and encouragement, which many 
had it in their power to bestow. 

If it were necessary to do more than simply to advert to these 
ways of doing good, to show their importance, many interest- 
ing examples, illustrative of them, might be adduced. Instances 
must be within the recollection of every well-informed man, of 
many persons, who have been brought forward under the patronage 
of individuals, and by whose future career their country has been 
immensely advanced in the arts, in literature, in the sciences, in 
manufactures, in commerce, and in every other branch of useful 
or ornamental labor and enterprise. Many most useful inven- 
tions and discoveries have originated in similar patronage, be- 
stowed on men of genius and enterprise by private individuals. 
Even the discovery of this continent sprung from the private 
patronage and encouragement bestowed on the enterprise by the 
queen of Spain. The records of history and biography are 
crowded with examples of genius, talent, and enterprise, encour- 



232 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

aged and cherished by private patronage. If there were no other 
instances, those of Arkwright and Fulton might suffice to recom- 
mend this way of being useful. 

Again, in respect to the utility of loans, the celebrated Dr. 
Franklin ascribes all his success and usefulness in life to his 
being aided in this way. He says, in his Will, " I was assisted 
to set up my business in Philadelphia by kind loans of money 
from two friends there, which was the foundation of my fortune, 
and of all the utility in life that may be ascribed to me ; and I 
wish to be useful, even after my death, if possible, in forming 
and advancing other young men that may be serviceable to their 
country." To this end, he bequeathed £2000 sterling to be 
loaned to young artisans in perpetual succession, and on a plan 
which is a just subject of curious interest.* 

But of all the methods, by which men may make themselves 
useful in their day and generation, no one is so fruitful in its 
returns of good, as gratuitous education, bestowed on those who 
must otherwise be without this blessing. All who have the 
command of money, may make themselves useful in this way. 
It is, also, in the line of the profession of clergymen, of the 
presidents and professors of our colleges, and masters of acade- 
mies and schools, to benefit the community in the same way ; 
and well have they used this talent intrusted to their guardianship. 
The number gratuitously educated by them has been very great. 
We have been accustomed, of late years, to hear many com- 
plaints ; in regard to the abuse of bequests made to encourage 
education, and it is not to be denied, that there has been too 
much foundation for complaints of this kind. Any abuse of this 
class of trusts is injurious in a tenfold degree, as it tends to 
prevent the appropriation of private wealth to advance education, 
when, at the approach of death, it can no longer be enjoyed by 
its proprietors. 

But flagrant abuses of this kind have been comparatively infre- 
quent, much less have they been general ; and, as a set-off against 
such abuses, there must be multitudes of instances, of an opposite 
character, scattered through the country, of which my limits 

* Franklin's Works, Vol. I. p. 515. 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 233 

permit me to cite but one. cc About forty years since," says 
the present assistant Bishop of Virginia, " there died in this 
country, a pious man, who had spent his life in the instruction 
of youth, and thereby accumulated a handsome fortune. Having 
no family, he left the greater part of his property, viz. fifteen 
thousand dollars, to one of our colleges, directing that the interest 
of the same should be used in the education of poor and pious 
youths for the ministry of the Gospel. The will has been re- 
ligiously observed, and some years since it was stated, that, by 
its means, one hundred and fifty pious youths had been admitted 
into the service of the sanctuary. And who shall estimate," 
continues the author, " the good which those preachers have 
done, and shall do, the thousands and hundreds of thousands, 
they have been, or will be, the instruments of converting, the 
hundreds and thousands of other pious youths, whom they may 
bring into the service of God, and all the good they also may 
do ; and who shall say how much of the happiness of this exalted 
saint may come from the knowledge of all this good, how re- 
joiced his angelic spirit may be in the society of those who have 
been converted under the ministry of his own raising, and who 
are now among the redeemed above r " * 



SECTION IV. 

ASSISTANCE IN THE WAY OF ALMSGIVING. 

That it is a duty to relieve the suffering poor, can admit of 
no question in the mind of a Christian. No duty is more fre- 
quently or more earnestly insisted on in the New Testament 
than almsgiving. " Give alms of such things as ye have ; and 
behold, all things are clean unto you."f " Charge them," says 
St. Paul, "that are rich in this world, that they be not high- 
minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, 
who giveth us richly all things to enjoy ; that they do good, 



* Rt. Rev. William Meade's Sermon before the Convention of Virginia, 15th 
May, 1828. 
t Matt, xi, 41. 

30 



234 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

that they be rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to 
communicate ; laying up in store for themselves a good founda- 
tion against the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal 
life." # " Whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother 
have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, 
how dwelleth the love of God in him ? " f 

Besides laying down the duty of almsgiving, in absolute 
terms, our Saviour has guarded us against bestowing alms from 
an unworthy motive, — we are not to give alms to be seen of 
men. J We are, moreover, to give alms upon a plan ; § that is, 
upon a deliberate comparison of our means with the reasonable 
expenses and expectations of our families ; to compute what we 
can spare, and to lay by so much for almsgiving in one way or 
another. [| 

With these directions, guarding us against the unworthy mo- 
tive most likely to beset us, and recommending the doing of 
the duty upon a plan most calculated to render it effectual, 
we are left to judge for ourselves, to consult our own reason 
and experience in regard to the limits of the duty, the proper 
subjects of it, the most suitable occasions for its exercise, 
and the manner and other circumstances of performing it. 
Almsgiving is a practical problem, and few, if any, practical 
problems in morals have been found more difficult than this ; 
which is, to relieve the suffering poor effectually, and, at the 
same time, not to minister to vice and the increase of pauperism. 
With much diffidence, therefore, I present the results of careful 
study and reflection on this part of the subject. 

I begin with observing, that the proper objects and principles 
of Christian almsgiving are among the great topics, which have 
lately engaged, and are now engaging, the attention of some of 
the best minds in Europe, and in our own country. A few 
years only have passedj away, since the great questions respecting 
the poor were, what provision must of necessity be made for 
them in view of their increasing numbers, and of the consequent 
expense to be incurred for them ? And, how are they most 

* 1 Tim. vi. 17-19. t 1 John iii. 1 7. J Matt. vi. 1. 

§ 1 Cor. xvi. 2. || Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 142. 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 235 

cheaply to be fed, and clothed, and saved from that desperation 
of want, under which lawlessness, and depredations, and every 
form of violence are to be apprehended ? And the leading 
measures, resorted to for the resolution of these questions, were, 
as far as philanthropists were concerned with them, the establish- 
ment of institutions for feeding the hungry, and clothing the 
naked, at the smallest possible cost ; and, where eleemosynary 
provisions of this kind were found inadequate, legislative aid was 
invoked in the form of new poor laws, or the modification and 
fresh adaptation of those existing, to new demands, circum- 
stances, and emergencies. 

I do not mean to say, or to imply, that in the times to which 
I refer, there was not much very active and very wise alms- 
giving. But I do mean to say, that almsgiving was too gener- 
ally under a very unwise direction ; that the true principles of 
Christian almsgiving were not understood, as they are now un- 
derstood ; that incidental, but great evils had sprung up under 
this injudicious course of action, and were growing, and contin- 
ually becoming more aggravated ; that they were extensively and 
deeply felt, but that their true causes were not, until lately, ex- 
tensively or clearly perceived. The conviction is now deep and 
strong in many minds, and is extending, that no great and perma- 
nent improvement of outward condition among the poor is to be 
expected, but through an improvement of character; that the 
best resources for improying their condition are within them- 
selves ; that they often need enlightenment respecting these re- 
sources much more than alms ; that alms may be a means of 
perpetuating poverty, and even of ministering to vice. 

I shall avail myself of the most successful and authoritative 
of the late investigations to which I refer ; and attempt to com- 
bine and illustrate the results, which seem to be well established, 
or entitled to the greatest confidence. In doing this, I shall 
examine, — I. The chief abuses of almsgiving. II. Discuss 
the chief modes of almsgiving, — which, if judiciously conduct- 
ed, will unquestionably benefit the poor. 

I. My general position, in regard to the abuses of almsgiving, 
may be laid down thus. Almsgiving is abused, whenever it 
ministers in any way to a neglect of forethought and providence ; 



236 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

to idleness, pride, or vanity ; or to luxurious and intemperate ap- 
petites ; — when it encroaches in any degree upon the feelings 
of a healthy self-respect, or a regard to character ; — and when 
it in any degree lessens in the receiver the feeling, that it is dis- 
graceful to depend upon almsgiving, as long as a capacity of 
self-support is retained. 

It would be easy to enumerate specific abuses both of public 
and private almsgiving. We all must have met with but too 
many of them, even in the small circles in which we have moved. 
There are, in every country, individuals and heads of families, 
capable of labor, who will not toil themselves, while they can 
live upon the toil of others. They are indisposed to any effort 
which they can avoid. Rather than work, they will live upon 
alms. There are those, too, who might live in great comfort 
upon their earnings, if they were willing to live within the com- 
pass of their earnings. In other words, they might live in great 
comfort upon their earnings, if they would deny themselves what 
they cannot afford, and were willing to appear to be simply 
what they are. But they aim at appearances, which their cir- 
cumstances do not justify. They would not only find their con- 
dition to be a very comfortable one, but they would revolt from 
the thought of dependence upon alms, if they felt a proper self- 
respect, and were under the guidance of a higher principle of 
right, honor, and duty. To give alms to such persons as these, 
I say, is an abuse of almsgiving. They need rather a minis- 
tration to their self-respect and sense of duty. 

Again, there are those, and they are not a few, who, in cases 
of occasional and even considerable failures of employment, 
might pass through those seasons entirely without the aid of alms, 
if they would, while they have employment, but look to the sea- 
sons when employment will probably fail them, and appropriate, 
for these seasons, what might well be spared from their earnings. 
And would not almsgiving here be at least a ministration to thrift- 
lessness ? I need not say, also, what multitudes there are, who, 
if they would but wholly relinquish the use of spirituous liquors, 
would never require the aid of alms for their comfortable subsis- 
tence. Nay, it may be, that they are in no small degree in- 
duced to continue in their intemperance and wastefulness, by their 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 237 

knowledge of the fact, that when pressed by want, they can avail 
themselves of alms. Now it is well known, it cannot be conceal- 
ed, that injudicious almsgiving, has not only relaxed the main 
spring of industry in many a mind, it has not only acted as a 
bounty upon idleness, upon intemperance, and upon willing and 
unnecessary dependence, but it has even led to and encouraged 
the grossest deceptions, imposture, and recklessness. 

Let it be known, that funds are provided for the various ob- 
jects of human necessity, and these funds will be applied for ; 
and supply, in this case, will indefinitely increase demand. It 
would be very unreasonable to look for any different result. If 
no necessity shall be felt, in the spring, summer, and autumn, of 
provision for winter, on what ground are we to expect that such 
provision will be made ? We shall in vain teach economy by 
words, where the necessity of it is superseded by the free supply 
of those wants, which the individual could himself have supplied, 
merely by an economical use of his own resources. 

Nor have parents and adults only been thus injured, perverted, 
and brought to indolence, thriftlessness, and debasement. Chil- 
dren have been, to a very great extent, made beggars, through the 
facilities and excitements which are given to beggary. I say, 
therefore, that to give to one who begs, because he had rather 
beg than work ; or to give to one who is not too proud to beg, 
and yet is too proud to live and appear as he must, if he lives 
upon his own earnings ; or to give to those who might support 
themselves, if they would but look to the future, and economize 
in preparation for it ; or to give to the intemperate, who, simply 
by abjuring the use of spirituous liquors, might be independent of 
all eleemosynary aid ; or in any way to supersede the necessity of 
industry, of forecast, and of proper self-restraint and self-denial, 
is at once to do wrong, and to encourage the receivers of our 
alms to do wrong. It is patronizing pauperism, and, it may even 
be, great vice. 

I have before said, that almsgiving is one of the highest, and, 
in the records of our religion, one of the most frequently and im- 
pressively inculcated, of our duties as Christians. I would, 
therefore, by every proper means increase, and would on no 
consideration do anything to diminish, our sense of its obligation. 



238 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

But it is proper, that we feel our responsibility, as well in regard 
to the evils which may be incidental to it^ as to the good which 
may be done by it. We must not, therefore, shrink from the 
fullest view which can be obtained of these evils. We know, 
that it has been abused by many to whom it has been extended ; 
and it is well if we can say, that it has never been abused by 
ourselves, through the want of care and good judgment with 
which we have exercised it. In speaking of its abuses, it is, 
therefore, to be remembered, that the whole blame of them does 
not fall upon the poor. I would not be unjust to any one, espe- 
cially to one who is poor. But I am convinced, that a clear 
knowledge and a faithful avoidance of the evils of an injudicious 
bestowment of alms, is essential to Christian almsgiving. Right- 
ly to understand uses in any case, we must, also, understand what 
are tendencies and liabilities to abuses in it. We are to do what 
good we may, in such a manner and under such precautions, as, 
if possible, to avoid any evils which may be incidental to it. 

II. But guided by the facts, arguments, and illustrations just 
given, how are we to perform the important duty of almsgiving in 
such a way as to attain the greatest possible good, and avoid the 
evils which are incidental to it ? This is a grave question, and 
an attempt will be made to answer it as fully as my limits will 
permit. 

1. Education of every kind, especially moral and religious 
education, is the most beneficial of all the modes of almsgiving. 
This is too plain to require, or even to admit, much illustration. 
The tendency of knowledge, that is, its ultimate tendency, un- 
questionably is, to improve the habits of those who acquire it, to 
elevate and strengthen their principles, and to amend all that con- 
stitutes their character. Principles and feelings, combined, make 
up what is called human character. And that the tendency of 
education is to amend this character by the influence of knowl- 
edge, and in proportion to its diffusion, there can be no doubt. 
Its tendency is to increase habits of reflection, to enlarge the 
mind, and render it more capable of receiving pleasurable impres- 
sions from, and taking an interest in, other things besides sensual 
gratification. This process operates likewise on the feelings, and 
necessarily tends to improve the character and conduct of the 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 239 

individual, to increase prudential habits, and to cultivate, in their 
purest form, the feelings and affections of the heart. * It is ad- 
mitted, that education is not always a sufficient guaranty against 
the commission of crime, — it is indeed a mighty instrument of 
either good or evil, according as it is directed. The great object 
of education ought to be, the cultivation of the moral feelings, 
habits, principles, and character. 

The children of the poor, then, ought to be special objects of 
the care of those who take a lively concern in improving the 
morals and advancing the happiness of mankind. To this end, 
our infant-school societies are among the most useful of our in* 
stitutions, in rescuing the children of paupers, and of the most 
profligate of the poor, from the disastrous exposures of their 
condition. Their object is, to take these children into their 
charge, even at the age of lisping infancy, and form their first 
associations to the knowledge and love of right, to the knowl- 
edge and practice of their duty, and to the knowledge and love of 
God, their Almighty Father. These schools are moral nurseries 
for those, who, if not gathered into them, or if left where they 
are, can hardly be expected, when they shall be advanced in life, 
to have any clear conceptions and permanent regard for right and 
wrong ; and who certainly, if uncared for, will not be wholly 
accountable for their character and conduct. The responsibility 
will be divided between themselves and those by whom they 
shall have been neglected. 

2. Furnishing the poor with employment, at a reasonable com- 
pensation, is another unquestionable and unexceptionable way 
of benefiting them. This position, also, does not seem to re- 
quire much illustration. We shall diminish the demand for alms, 
in proportion as we can awaken a spirit of industry in those who 
shall apply for them, and supply those with employment who 
cannot otherwise obtain it ; and not less, in proportion as we 
shall save the children of paupers from early exposure, and edu- 
cation in the vices, which have brought their parents to debase- 
ment and ruin. 

3. Alms given by individuals in considerable sums, to merito- 



* Lord Brougham's Speech in the British House of Lords, 20th June, 1834. 



240 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

rious persons and families, suffering (laboring) under discourage- 
ment, depression, and misfortune, are often highly useful. By 
sudden or gradual fluctuations of business, by losses in commerce 
and manufactures, by seasons unfavorable to agriculture, by de- 
privation of health, by the fraud or other misconduct of persons 
who prove themselves unworthy of confidence, by fires, tem- 
pests, and inundations, the calamities of war, and the thousand 
other unforeseen contingences against which no prudence or 
foresight can guard, many meritorious individuals and families, in 
every community, are occasionally, without any fault of theirs, 
suddenly reduced to the most humiliating and distressed circum- 
stances, who have all the feelings, habits, and associations of in- 
dependence, of comfort, and perhaps of affluence. 

Few situations are more trying and distressing than this. It 
not only appeals strongly to the sensibilities and personal en- 
deavours of the friends of such individuals and families in their 
behalf, — it does much more ; at times, especially, it appeals to 
them for aid still more substantial, for loans or even benefactions 
of money. These are the proper occasions, on which men of 
wealth, and all persons in easy circumstances, may do good, by 
unclenching the right hand without letting the left hand know 
what the right hand is doing.* A benefaction may appropriately 
be bestowed in such cases, " not to be seen of menf but se- 
cretly, the open and manifest reward of which is specially prom- 
ised by the Almighty. f 

4. Alms dispensed through the intervention of hospitals, 
almshouses, infirmaries, asylums, and charitable societies of va- 
rious kinds. On the first four of these means of administering 
alms, it is not necessary to enlarge. It does not appear, that 
previous to the introduction of Christianity, any similar means of 
relieving the poor and distressed had been provided in any coun- 
try.:): They are, therefore among the most precious fruits of 
Christianity, and an imperishable honor to this divine religion. 
In these institutions, the suffering poor, the maimed, the halt, 
and the blind, the distressed and unfortunate of every class, who 
have none else to care for them, find a refuge, and are cared for. 

* Matt. vi. 3. t Matt. vi. 1, 4. 

I Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy; p. 142, 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 241 

The necessities which they relieve are pressing, immediate, and 
do not admit of delay. And, like all other institutions, they 
must be more effectual in the accomplishment of their exalted 
purpose, as their external interests and their internal administra- 
tion are managed with more order, discretion, prudence, and 
good judgment ; and according to the zeal, capacity, and charac- 
ter of those to whom their administration is intrusted. 

The last of the means of dispensing alms, above enumerated, 
to wit, charitable societies, will detain me much longer. The 
number of these societies in the United States, in Great Britain, 
and other Christian countries, is very great, and they have be- 
come a most extensive means of almsgiving, in every form which 
it can assume. These circumstances alone would render careful 
inquiry into their principles and tendencies useful. Besides, 
the opinion has begun to prevail, and seems to be extending, 
not only that they have been the occasion of great waste and of 
great abuse of the alms which they have so munificently dis- 
pensed, but that their tendency is to increase pauperism. Effects 
still worse than these have been imputed to them. 

Many at the present time are accustomed to reason thus. 
These societies, say they, are formed for the purpose of obtain- 
ing funds and dispensing alms. They are therefore known, or 
are supposed by the poor, to possess funds, either for general or 
specific objects of relief. And these funds are to be appro- 
priated to the relief of those, who shall apply for them, and who 
shall seem to need them. They must, therefore, and will oper- 
ate as lures to application for relief. Not only so, they invite, 
it is said, even those, who would reluctantly expose their necessi- 
ties to a private benefactor, to join the multitude who are already 
recognised as habitually and willingly dependent upon alms, and 
thus to become themselves recognised, and willing, and habitual 
dependents. And yet further ; in proportion as the disposition 
already exists in any, thus to be dependent, rather than to labor 
and economize, this provision not only supersedes the necessity 
of forethought and exertion, but, to the extent to which the 
provision shall be made, or shall be supposed to be made, it 
may be called a machine for perpetuating idleness, waste, and 
dependence. Even if it be supposed, that the funds thus raised 
31 



242 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

are small, still, not only will reliance be felt, and calculations be 
made upon them, but the expectations, formed of them and from 
them, will not be small. 

It must be admitted, that this reasoning, sustained as it is by 
occasional facts, is plausible and fitted to make an impression 
even on a good man. That his almsgiving, which he has been 
taught to consider a sacred duty, should even be suspected to be 
an occasion of waste, of abuse, and of increasing pauperism ; 
strikes him with equal surprise and dismay. Many go easily 
from one extreme to another ; many, too, are glad of any plausi- 
ble excuse for refusing to give alms. No doubt, also, there has 
been enough of waste and abuse of alms, to admonish all who 
may be concerned in their dispensation, to be distinctly on their 
guard, lest they justify the reasoning of those who oppose them- 
selves against all almsgiving, and cast discouragement on this 
great and imperative Christian duty. 

It may well be believed, indeed, that the abuses of almsgiving 
have been very much magnified ; and it may be affirmed, with 
all confidence, that such abuses are circumstantial and incidental 
to it, not essential. In other terms, the abuses are owing to 
want of skill and experience in the dispensers of alms, and not 
to any thing inherent in almsgiving itself, or in societies, as the 
almoners of pecuniary bounty destined for the poor and dis- 
tressed. Guided by a knowledge of human nature, and by the 
teaching of the past, rich as it has been in experience on this 
subject, the subjoined cautions and rules may be recommended to 
all societies instituted to collect and dispense alms, and to indi- 
viduals who themselves dispense their own alms. 

(1.) Let all who dispense alms keep distinctly in view the 
danger of misapplying them, and do all they can to guard against 
every abuse of the alms which they dispense. By this, it is not 
intended to sanction the maxim, that every man is to be suspect- 
ed to be a knave, till he shall have proved himself to be honest. 
Nor is every one to be suspected to be an impostor, who asks 
for alms, till he shall have proved himself to be as destitute as he 
shall seem to be. Neither should we indulge an easy and weak 
credulity, which shrinks from inquiry into the necessities of an 
applicant for alms. We may believe of every one who seems 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 243 

honest, that he may be so ; and we ought to respect honesty 
wherever we may find it. But, that our alms may accomplish 
the purposes of Christian benevolence, our eyes must not be 
shut to their liabilities and tendencies to evil. 

(2.) Again ; it is a fundamental principle, that individuals and 
families, asking for alms, ought to be relieved only at their homes, 
and after a personal examination of each case ; and relief in 
those cases, when given, ought to he given, not in money, but in 
the necessaries required in the case ; and street-begging is, as far 
as possible, to he broJcen up, especially begging by children. Pri- 
vate individuals, indeed, cannot often do this ; but those, who dis- 
pense the extensive alms of charitable societies, must make up 
their minds to do it with patience and perseverance, if they expect 
to prevent imposture, and do the good at which they aim. The 
giving of alms to street-beggars is, it may be said with great 
confidence, the worst of all the abuses of almsgiving. We 
may well believe, and we ought to act upon the belief, that it is 
scarcely possible to live by street-begging, and to live virtuously. 
It is almost certain, that the boy, who shall be reared to beggary, 
will be a pauper for life ; and that the beggar girl, if not early 
rescued, will be irretrievably, and in the worst sense possible, 
ruined. 

(3.) My third principle respects those who are called the 
able-bodied poor, and is this, — that the alms which interfere 
with the necessity of industry, forethought, economy, and a 
proper self-denial, are not only encouragements, but causes of 
pauperism. The truth upon this subject is, and the more faith- 
fully it is regarded, the better it will be for all ; that, except the 
feeble, the aged, the maimed, and the diseased, the number is 
extremely small, who, by industry, economy, and temperance, 
could not provide for themselves and their families. 

Among the feeble here referred to, may be included a very 
interesting class of women, principally widows, who have the 
charge of several children. Their sole dependence, except oc- 
casional alms, is either upon their needles, by which they can 
earn at best a dollar, or a dollar and a half a week ; or upon em- 
ployment for a day, or a part of a day, whenever they can obtain 
it, in any of the coarse work of a family. Many of these are the 



244 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III 

widows of men, w T ho might have left their wives independent of 
alms, had they but themselves abstained from the use of spirituous 
liquors. But their husbands have left them broken in constitution, 
borne down by discouragement, utterly destitute, and surrounded 
by helpless and hungry children. The earnings of this class of 
women, with their best industry, are very precarious as well as 
small. At certain seasons, even with extreme economy, they 
could not be comfortable without alms. They are unequivocally 
proper subjects of alms. 

But the number, both of men and women, is still greater, 
who are able-bodied, and yet apply for alms. They are not 
inclined to do what they can for themselves. Many of them earn 
enough for self-support, but expend those earnings in the haunts 
of waste and vice. They know little of economy, and care for 
it and practise it still less. They calculate, when employment 
shall fail them, to live upon the alms they expect to receive. It 
is, indeed, a delicate, and often a very painful office, to decide 
and act upon applications for aid, where want and even necessity, 
may at the time be pressing, but where it is not only perceived, 
that this necessity might have been avoided by a proper self- 
denial and economy on the part of the applicants, but that, 
through the continued neglect of this economy, there will be a 
perpetual recurrence of the very necessity which pleads for im- 
mediate relief. In respect to these cases, I can only say, that, 
if relief must be given, and it sometimes must be, it should never 
be of a kind, or to a degree, ivhich will moke this dependence 
preferable to a life of labor. 

In justice to the poor it may be said, that many of them would 
be economical, if they knew how to be so. But they have been 
reared in ignorance, and indolence, and thriftlessness. It may 
even be, that, amidst waste and want, they have been reared 
to every attainable indulgence of appetite, — and, as far as females 
are concerned, to every attainable gratification of the love of 
finery and display. If these evils cannot be remedied in parents, 
we ought to do what we may, for their prevention in children. 
And I repeat, — for too great importance cannot be attached to 
the principle involved in the caution, — let us take care, that we 
do not enable the willingly dependent to live more comfortably 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 245 

without industry and economy, by living upon our alms, than the 
humblest of the self-denying, who receive no alms, can live with- 
out them. 

(4.) Another principle of great importance is this ; — wher- 
ever, in our intercourse with the poor, we meet with industry, 
with frugality , with self -respect, and with a preference of self- 
denial to dependence upon alms ; the encouragement proper and 
suitable to individuals of this character is, not almsgiving in 
any of the forms or modifications which it can assume, but the 
respect and regard for character simply, which such persons will 
never fail to know how to appreciate. 

This, indeed, is a test by which the truth of character, in 
these respects, may be tried. The man or woman, who. really 
prefers labor and self-denial to dependence upon alms, will 
equally prefer our simple confidence, our just appreciation of 
motives, and our respect expressed by treatment and conduct, 
rather than bywords, to any alms which we could give. Let 
us not fail to sympathize with such a person wherever we may 
find him. But let us be aware, also, of the delicacy, of the care, 
which must be maintained, in the treatment of such a person. 
Any substitute for alms, which is to be appropriated to the uses 
to which alms are applied, however it may be disguised, may, 
if accepted, lead to dependence upon alms. And he is not 
fitted to be an almoner, who does not understand and feel, that 
sincere respect, sympathy, and interest will do more to improve 
the entire condition of the poor, than any alms which we can 
give them. These sentiments, and a corresponding deportment 
towards the poor, will save from pauperism, where the want of 
them will lead to, and inevitably do much to occasion, pauperism. 
There is no doubt, that much of the existing pauperism is to be 
ascribed to the fact, that respect and sympathy are given, in so 
great a measure, to condition, rather than to character. Multi- 
tudes, therefore, who feel that they cannot hope essentially to 
rise in condition, become reckless in regard to character. We 
ought to do what we can to remedy this evil. And, above all, 
let us take heed, that our alms shall not be means of undermining 
one right principle in the mind, or of enfeebling one of its well- 
directed energies. 



246 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

(5.) Another principle, not less essential than either of the 
preceding, is, that where there are relatives of the poor , who are 
able to provide for them, almsgiving should not be permitted to 
interfere with the duties of such relatives. If the alms are 
evil, worse than thrown away, which operate as substitutes for 
industry and economy, in a still higher sense are they evil, be- 
cause conducing to greater sin, where they interfere with, and 
supersede the demand for, the affections and duties, which belong 
to the near relations in which God places us in this world. # 

It is the will of God, that, as far as they can, parents should 
provide for their children. It is equally his will, if parents fall 
into a condition of dependence, and there are children who are 
able, even at the cost of much labor and self-denial, to take 
charge of them, that parents, under these circumstances, shall be 
supported by their children. Law and right, indeed, require this 
support from more distant relatives of the impotent poor. Law, 
however, independent of a higher principle, cannot do much in 
this case. The duty is one of high moral character, and as 
such is to be early and universally inculcated. So it has been 
inculcated in Scotland ; and the consequence is, that, where there 
are no poor-laws, and no parish assessments in that country, the 
care of the people for their own poor relatives goes far to super- 
sede the necessity of any other provision for them. Legal and 
other artificial provision for the poor, greatly checks and restrains 
the natural sympathies of relatives with each other's necessities. 
They also paralyze public sentiment upon the subject of duty 
in the case ; and induce a tacit approval of turning over poor 
relatives upon public charity, even where it ought to cover the 
individuals, who are guilty of it, with shame and disgrace. We 
ought to do all we can to counteract this insensibility ; to call up 
and strengthen the affections by which relatives should be bound 
to each other, and to show our respect for those who are faithful 
to the offices of kindred and neighbourhood. Here, as in the 
cases before adverted to, a judicious respect, and a kindly word 
of encouragement, are a far better tribute, than would be the 
most abundant alms. 

* 1 Timothy v. 8. 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 247 

(6.) Once more ; — since not only a large part of the depend- 
ence upon alms, even among the virtuous poor, but nearly all our 
pauperism, (abject poverty,) is either immediately or remotely to 
be ascribed to intemperance in drinking, the question arises, and 
it is often a question of great difficulty, — What ought we to do r 
or what shall we do in the cases, in which, but for intemperance, 
there would be no call for alms 1 We must always distinguish 
between the intemperate man and his family. The wife of a 
drunken husband and her children may be without food, without 
fuel, without comfortable clothing, and wholly innocent in re- 
spect to the causes of their destitution. Or, it may be, the wife 
is as intemperate as her husband. Yet there are children to be 
housed, and clothed, and warmed, and fed, and instructed. It 
may be said, that our very alms will be appropriated to the rear- 
ing of these children in intemperance. To some extent, they 
probably will be. Yet there may be actual and pressing want of 
the absolute necessaries of life. Let him, who thinks it easy al- 
ways to act wisely in reference to this class of cases, make him- 
self practically acquainted with them, and give us the light of his 
counsel and example. The best general rule is this, — to the 
intemperate, whether man or woman, money should never be 
given. Nay more, even relief in kind should never be given to 
the families of the intemperate, beyond the demands of unques- 
tionable necessity. Not that we ought to inflict upon them any 
suffering ; we ought, rather, to be willing and gratified instruments, 
as far as we can, of their rescue from all suffering. But any alms 
we may bestow, except with the greatest caution, will but plunge 
them still further in want and misery. Nay, through our own 
very alms, may an intemperate husband and father feel himself 
relieved from the necessity, and perhaps from the obligation, of 
providing for his wife and children. 

There are cases, in which law might do far more than it has 
ever done for the prevention of pauperism. But, while it licenses 
the dram-shop, and interferes not with the victim of intemper- 
ance, to whatever pitch of wretchedness he may bring his family, 
while he commits no outrage against the public peace, we must 
still do what we can, that our alms may not minister to his yet 
further progress in guilt and misery. Let us seek, by all the 



248 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

means of which we can avail ourselves, to recover him from his 
ruin. Above all, we ought never to lose our interest in his 
children. 

5. The administration of alms by a system of poor-laws re- 
mains to be discussed, and is too important to be omitted. The 
great danger of systematic and established provisions for the relief 
of the poor, in the form of poor-laws, consists in their tendency 
to deprave the poor^ and thus indefinitely to extend and perpetu- 
ate pauperism. 

The history of such establishments, is full of solemn admoni- 
tion on these dangers. The Reports, recently published in Eng- 
land, upon the poor-laws and their effects, enable us fully to un- 
derstand this subject. They show, that, from the beginning and 
constantly, these laws have operated upon very many, as lures to 
seek support by alms, rather than by labor. Where there is little 
or no sense of character, or sense of shame, to deter from willing 
dependence, the temptations to it need not be great. Human 
wants are divine provisions for human exertions ; and, where 
ability is possessed, and opportunity is had, for the exertions by 
which self-support may be obtained, it is the will of God, that 
man should provide for his own subsistence. Yet many are, and 
ever have been, disposed to live with as little labor and self- 
denial as possible. Many are industrious, economical, and care- 
ful for the future, only as they are compelled to be so by the 
absolute necessity of their condition. They are always ready to 
avail themselves of any circumstances, by which they can live 
upon easier terms than daily forethought, care, and toil. The 
fact stands out in bold relief, and for solemn admonition, that es- 
tablished provisions for the support of the poor have never failed 
to obtain claimants, to any extent to which such provisions have 
been made. And not only so, but the relief thus given has been 
received, not as alms, but as the proportion due to the receiver 
from a recognised common stock. 

As yet we see these results but to a comparatively small extent 
in our own country. The facilities for employment and support 
everywhere among us are so many and great, and our popula- 
tion is as yet so little crowded, compared with that of Europe, 
that demands of this kind may be resisted here, as they cannot be 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 249 

there. But we have experience enough of these results to satisfy 
us, that they are not fictions. It is to be considered, also, in 
this connexion, that every addition to the number so supported, 
exerts some influence in breaking down the sense of shame in 
regard to this kind of support, in those who are in the same, or 
in similar, circumstances. On this subject, the experience of 
England is too instructive to be passed by lightly. " I am every 
week astonished," says the overseer of an English parish, " by 
seeing persons come for relief, who I never thought would have 
come. Among them are respectable mechanics, whose work 
and means are tolerably good. The greater number of out-door 
paupers are worthless people. But still, the number of decent 
people, who ought to make provision for themselves, and who 
come, is very great and increasing. Indeed, the malady of pau- 
perism has not only got among respectable mechanics. We find 
even persons, who may be considered as the middle classes, 
such as petty masters, who have never before been seen making 
applications to parish officers, now applying. My opinion is, 
that they apply in consequence of witnessing the ease with which 
others, who might have provided for themselves, obtain relief."* 
Thus, in England, circle has gradually been added to circle, 
and the whirling eddy has extended, until it has ingulfed multi- 
tudes who once thought themselves, and were universally thought, 
far from its brink. Here, too, the great secret is disclosed, of 
the pauperism of very many in this country. They might have 
provided for their own necessities. But they have seen, that 
others obtain relief amid their wants, simply by asking for it, and 
thus they, also, have been led to ask for it. And if, moreover, 
we take into account the peculiar pressure for aid, which always 
has been, and always will be, incidental to seasons of scarcity, and 
to those fluctuations of the commercial and manufacturing interests, 
by which many, for a time, are thrown out of employment, and 
the wages of labor are reduced to those who may still be employ- 
ed, while the price of provisions may even be considerably en- 
hanced, the whole mystery of the danger of permanent provisions 
for the relief of want, so far as the increase of pauperism is con- 

* Report of Commissioners upon the Poor-Laws, p. 45. 
32 



250 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

cerned, and of all other than purely moral provisions for these 
exigencies, will be dispelled. 

It is in these emergencies, that the greatest accessions are made 
to the number of recognised and permanent dependents upon 
poor-laws, and upon charitable societies. The difficulties, it may 
be the actual sufferings of the poor, but independent laborer, are 
then sometimes very great. A strong sense of character, it may 
be a strong sense of duty, is then required for the maintenance of 
his independence. His case is very proper to enlist "private sym- 
pathy, to be manifested by giving him employment, or mahing 
him small loans ; but let him manfully persevere in his indepen- 
dence, and avoid a resort to poor-laws. By receiving aid under 
poor-laws, during a pressure of this kind, many thousands have 
been brought to pauperism, who, aided by private sympathy as 
they should have been, might have obviated the temporary diffi- 
culties of their condition by their own exertions, have gained 
strength to principle and character from these very difficulties, 
and ultimately have been gainers through the very circumstances, 
which, causing them to depend on alms, have eventually brought 
them to degradation and ruin. 

I omit all consideration of the excessive burthens imposed 
upon the community in the way of taxes by pauperism, because 
this part of the subject belongs to the legislator and the political 
economist, rather than to the moral philosopher. But the effects 
of poor-laws upon the moral feelings and natural sympathies of 
paupers come fairly within my province. u The burthen of 
this" (the pecuniary) "tax upon its payers," says the highest 
authority, "sinks into insignificance, when compared with the 
dreadful effects, which the system produces upon the morals and 
happiness of the poor. It is as difficult to convey to the mind 
of the reader a true and faithful impression of the intensity and 
malignity of the evil, in this view of it, as it is by any descrip- 
tion, however vivid, to give any adequate idea of the horrors of a 
shipwreck, or a pestilence. A person must converse with pau- 
pers, must enter workhouses and examine the inmates, must at- 
tend at the parish pay-table, before he can form a just conception 
of the moral debasement, which is the offspring of the present 
(poor-law) system. He must hear the pauper threaten to aban- 



Chap. VII.] DUTY OF MUTUAL ASSISTANCE. 251 

don an aged and bed-ridden mother, to turn her out of his house, 
and to lay her at the overseer's door, unless he is paid for giving 
her a shelter ; he must hear parents threaten to follow the same 
course with regard to their sick children ; and, when he finds that 
he can scarcely step into a town or parish in any county, without 
meeting with some instance or other of this character, he will no 
longer consider the pecuniary pressure upon the rate-payer as the 
first in the class of evils, which the poor-laws have entailed upon 
the community." * 

Again, another witness says, u Two laborers were reported 
to me as extremely industrious men. They maintained large 
families, and had neither of them ever applied for relief. I 
thought it advisable, that they should receive some mark of pub- 
lic approbation, and we gave them one pound each from the 
parish. Very shortly they both became applicants for reliefs 
and have continued so ever since. I can decidedly state, as the 
result of my experience, that, when once a family has received 
relief it is to be expected that their descendants for generations 
will receive it also. I remember, that, about two years ago, a 
father and mother and two young children were very ill, and re- 
duced to great distress. They were obliged to sell all their little 
furniture for their subsistence. They were settled with us ; and, 
as we heard of their extreme distress, went to offer them relief. 
They, however, strenuously refused the aid. I reported this to 
the church-warden, who determined to accompany me ; and to- 
gether we again pressed upon the family the necessity of receiv- 
ing relief. But still they refused, and we could not persuade 
them to accept our offer. We felt so interested in the case, 
however, that we sent them four shillings in a parcel with a letter, 
desiring them to apply for more, if they continued ill. This they 
did. And from that time, I do not believe they have been three 
weeks off our books, although there has been little or no ill 
health in the family. Thus we effectually spoiled the habits 
acquired by their previous industry. And I have no hesitation 
in saying, that, in nine cases out of ten, such is the constant 
effect of having tasted parish bounty. This applies as much to 



* Report of his (Britannic) Majesty's Commissioners on the Poor-Laws, 
1834, p. 97, 



252 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

the young as to the middle-aged, and as much to the middle-aged 
as to the old. I state it confidently, as the result of my expe- 
rience, that, if once a young lad gets a pair of shoes given him 
by the parish, he never afterwards lays by sufficient to buy a 
pair. So it is also with parents. The disease of pauperism is 
hereditary. When once a family has applied to the parish for 
relief, they are pressed down for ever." * 

The truth is, the English system of poor-laws has had the 
effect, so far as the poor are concerned, of repealing that great 
law of nature, by which the effects of each man's improvidence 
or misconduct are visited upon himself and his family. The 
effect has been, moreover, to repeal, to the same extent, the 
law, by which each man and his family enjoy the benefit of his 
own prudence and virtue. In abolishing punishment, we equally 
abolish reward. "It appears to the pauper," say the English 
Commissioners, "that the government has undertaken to repeal, 
in his favor, the ordinary laws of nature ; to enact, that the 
children shall not suffer for the misconduct of their parents, the 
wife for that of the husband, or the husband for that of the wife ; 
that no one shall lose the means of comfortable subsistence, what- 
ever be his indolence, prodigality, or vice ; in short, that the 
penalty, which, after all, must be paid by some one for idleness 
and improvidence, is to fall, not on the guilty person, or on his 
family, but on the proprietors of the lands and houses encum- 
bered by his settlement. Can we wonder," they continue, " if 
the uneducated are seduced into approving a system, which aims 
its allurements at all the weakest parts of our nature, which offers 
marriage to the young, security to the anxious, ease to the lazy, 
and impunity to the profligate?"! Such are the chief evils 
which have attended the English system of poor-laws ; and, in a 
certain measure, the same system so far as it has been established 
in this country. 

Still it is right to subjoin, that the English Commissioners con- 
sider these evils incidental to the system, and not its necessary 
consequences. They say, "From the evidence collected under 

* Report of his (Britannic) Majesty's Commissioners on the Poor-Laws, 
1834, p. 93. 

t Idem, pp. 59, 77. 



Chap. VIII.] THE DUTIES OF FRIENDSHIP. 253 

this commission, we are induced to believe, that a compulsory 
provision for the relief of the indigent can be generally adminis- 
tered on a sound and well-defined principle ; and that, under the 
operation of this principle, the assurance, that no one need perish 
from want, may be rendered more complete than at present, and 
the mendicant and vagrant repressed by disarming them of their 
weapon, — the plea of impending starvation." * To secure this 
end, the new act of Parliament was framed, and the new system 
is stated to be working well.f 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE DUTIES OF FRIENDSHIP. 



The question was discussed as early as the time of Cicero, 
whether mankind are accustomed to associate by the influence of 
a natural principle, or in consequence of the mutual aid which 
they may expect, and which they can most effectually give each 
other, by living in society and cultivating social intercourse.^ 
Cicero decides the question in favor of a social principle natural 
to man, which leads him, independent of any expectation of aid, 
to associate with his kind ; and his decision has received the 
general assent of those who have most extensively observed 
mankind. § 

Social intercourse is seen in its highest perfection in the case 
of permanent and disinterested friendship ; and every classical 
scholar must have had his fancy enlivened, and his heart and im- 
agination warmed, in perusing the glowing descriptions of the 
satisfaction and delight which attend it, as given by the classical 

* Report of his (Britannic) Majesty's Commissioners on the Poor-Laws, 
1834, p. 227. 

i See First Annual Report of the Poor-Law Commissioners, 1835. On the 
whole subject of almsgiving, the author has made much use of the Annual 
Report of the Association of Benevolent Societies in Boston, for October, 1835, 
a very valuable and instructive document. 

t De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 44. 

§ See Ferguson's Moral and Political Science, Vol. I. pp. 21-25. 



254 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

writers of antiquity. " To take friendship from life," says Cice- 
ro, " would be almost the same thing, as to take the sun from 
the world." And Pythagoras was accustomed to make the in- 
timacy of friendship so strict, that each person was to be as 
much pleased with his friend as with himself ; and he made the 
perfection of it to consist in several persons being made one 
{unus ex pluribus) by a union of affections and inclinations, and 
a resemblance of manners, morals, and excellences of every 
kind.* 

The duties of friendship respect 1. its commencement, 2. its 
continuance, 3. its abuses and violations, 4. its close, — and 
under these divisions I shall consider it. 

1. The first duty of friendship respects the choice of our 
friends. The importance of this choice is manifest, when we 
consider the influence over us, which we give to every one 
whom we admit to our confidence and intimacy. The moral 
maxim quoted by St. Paul, " Evil communications corrupt 
good manners," f is applicable to all human intercourse, es- 
pecially to the more intimate connexions of life, and to no one 
more than to friendship. Many writers have made useful sug- 
gestions respecting the choice of friends ; but no one has more 
carefully summed up the necessary cautions to be used, than the 
author of the apocryphal book of Ecclesiasticus. " Be in peace 
with many," says he ; " nevertheless, have but one counsellor of 
a thousand. If thou wouldst get a friend, prove Mm first, and 
be not hasty to credit him. For some man is a friend for his 
own occasion, and will not abide in the day of thy trouble. 
And there is a friend, who, being turned to enmity and strife, 
will discover thy reproach." Again, " Some friend is a com- 
panion at the table, and will not continue in the day of thine 
affliction. But, in thy prosperity, he will be as thyself, and will 
be bold over thy servants. If thou be brought low, he will be 
against thee, and will hide himself from thy face. Separate thy- 
self " (that is, as to the interchanges of confidence) u from thine 
enemies ; and take heed," (that is, in the choice) " of thy 
friends . A faithful friend is a strong defence ; and he that hath 

* Cicero, De Amicitia,c. 13; De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 17. 
t 1 Cor. xv. 33. 



Chap. V1IJL] THE DUTIES OF FRIENDSHIP. 255 

found such an one, hath found a treasure. Nothing doth coun- 
tervail a faithful friend, and his excellency is invaluable. A 
faithful friend is the medicine of life ; and they that fear the 
Lord shall find him." * 

In the choice of a friend, then, besides the personal qualities 
and virtues which are a just ground of personal preference, in- 
tegrity, in the full meaning of the term, education, sympathy, 
faithfulness, consistency, prudence, perseverance, unsullied honor, 
self-command, and a well-disciplined temper, are indispensable. 

2. A wise caution and prudent deliberation in our choice 
may perhaps be regarded rather as preliminary to the duties of 
friendship, than as actual duties arising from this connexion. 
These cannot in strictness be said to commence, until friend- 
ship has been formed. 

(1.) One of the first and most imperative of these duties is, 
the liberal interchange and reciprocation of confidence. On 
this part of the subject, the ancient writers speak in language, 
which must seem to savour not only of enthusiasm, but of abso- 
lute extravagance, in these calculating, — these utilitarian times. 
u If you think any one your friend," says Seneca, " in whom 
you do not put the same confidence as in yourself, you know not 
the real power of friendship. Consider long, whether the indi- 
vidual whom you view with regard, is worthy of being admitted 
to your bosom ; but, when you have judged, and found him truly 
worthy, admit him to your very heart. You should so live, 
indeed, as to trust nothing to your conscience, which you would 
not trust to your enemy ; but, at least to your friend, let all be 
open. He will be the more faithful, as your confidence in his 
fidelity is more complete."! u The life of no man," says 
Cicero, " is worth living, who cannot refresh himself with the 
mutual benevolence and confidence of friendship. What is 
more pleasant than to have a friend, with whom you can con- 
verse as familiarly as with yourself. He who sees a true friend, 
sees, as it were, an exemplar of himself. Through the influence 
of friendship," continues he, u the absent are always present, 
the poor are made rich, the weak become strong, and, what is 

* Ecclesiasticus vi. G- 1C. t Ep. III. Vol II. p. 6. ed. Amst. 



256 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

still more incredible, the dead live, — so great honor, such vivid 
recollection and regret await them on the part of their friends. 
Wherefore their life is honorable, and their death is blessed. " 
Again, he says, " There ought to be among friends, without any 
exception, a mutual sharing of wishes, sentiments, counsels, in- 
terests, griefs, dangers, and pleasures." * 

(2.) Again, it is a duty of friendship to give mutual aid, not 
only by way of advice and good counsel, but also by lending 
effective assistance in advancing each other's enterprises and 
undertakings. There are occasions in the life of every man, 
when candid advice and judicious counsel are extremely valua- 
ble ; and there are occasions, when one friend may be highly ser- 
viceable to another, without any sacrifice of his interest, or even 
of his convenience. Almost every man, too, has laudable un- 
dertakings and enterprises, either of a private or public nature, 
which it is in the power of a few persons to advance, by drawing 
public attention to them, inducing men of influence to give them 
their countenance, encouragement, and, if necessary, their pa- 
tronage. 

(3.) Another duty of friendship is, that friends lend one 
another their sympathy in seasons of distress, calamity, discour- 
agement, and depression. " Rejoice with them that do rejoice, 
and weep with them that weep," is a precept of Christian 
morals, enforced by Apostolic injunction, f Such seasons are 
effectual tests of the sincerity of friendship. " A friend," says 
the Son of Sirach, cc cannot be known in prosperity; and an 
enemy cannot be hidden in adversity." Again, his counsel is, 
u Be faithful to thy neighbour (friend) in his poverty, that thou 
mayest rejoice in his prosperity ; abide steadfast unto him in the 
time of his trouble, that thou mayest be heir with him in his 
heritage ; for a mean estate is not always to be contemned ; 
nor the rich that is foolish to be had in admiration." J 

(4.) The highest of all the duties of friendship, however, is, 
that friends mutually make known their errors, deficiencies, sins, 
and other failings to one another, with a view to secure their 

* De Amicitia, c. 4, 6, 7, 17. t Rom. xii. 15. 

% Ecclesiasticus xii. 8 ; xxii. 23. 



Chap. VIII.] THE DUTIES OF FRIENDSHIP. 257 

correction and reformation. This is dwelt upon by all the writers, 
not only as the highest duty, but as the most disinterested proof, 
of friendship. " Friendship justifies," says the great Roman mor- 
alist, so often quoted, " and requires, not only free, but even severe 
admonition, on certain occasions." Again, " Friends are often 
to be admonished and reproved, (monendi scejpe et objurgandi 
sunt,) and such admonitions are to be received in the kindly 
spirit with which they are given."* He even says, u Bitter 
enemies are of more use than those friends, who to some men 
seem kind ; for, the former often tell the truth, the latter 
never." " Faithful are the wounds of a friend," says the wisest 
of men. f " Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart ; thou 
shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbour, (friend,) and not suffer 
sin upon him," is the injunction of divine wisdom. | Again, 
" Admonish a friend, it may be he hath not done it ; and if he 
have done it, that he do it no more. Admonish thy friend, it 
may be he hath not said it ; and if he have, that he speak it 
not again. Admonish a friend ; for many times it is a slander, 
and believe not every tale." § 

Nor must we shrink from the duty of admonishing a friend 
of his imperfections, especially of his moral imperfections, be- 
cause we may give him offence. He who takes offence, from 
such admonitions as friendship dictates, admonitions, the chief 
inducement to which is found in the very excellence of him 
whom we wish to make still more excellent, is not worthy of 
the friendship which we have wasted on him ; and if we thus lose 
his friendship, we are relieved from one who could not have 
been sincere in his past professions of regard, and whose insin- 
cerity, therefore, we might afterwards have had reason to lament. || 
Cicero well says, " His safety is to be despaired of, whose 
ears are so shut against truth, that he cannot hear it from his 
friend." 1T 

But, while the writers are unanimous in respect to the impor- 
tance of friendly admonition, and the duty of giving it, they are 
equally unanimous in claiming importance for the manner in which 

* De Amicitia, c. 13, 24. t Proverbs xxvii. 6. 

t Leviticus xix. 17. § Ecclesiasticus xix. 13- 15. 

|| See Brown's Philosophy of the Mind, Vol. III. p. 394. IT De Amicitia, c. 24. 
33 



258 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

this highest and most difficult of the duties of friendship is dis- 
charged. A friend is to be admonished in gentle and respectful 
terms. Whatever of severity there may be in any remonstrance 
on the part of a friend, must consist in the matter of the remon- 
strance, not in the manner , much less in the language in which 
it is conveyed. To this end, a friend is to wait for opportuni- 
ties, to seek the mollia tempora fandi, to be inventive of ways 
and methods, by which to render his remonstrances as little of- 
fensive as possible, and effectual to secure the object in view. 
He must strictly avoid every thing that savours in the least of 
assumption ; every thing that seems to betoken a sense of supe- 
riority. In the censure of a friend, moreover, a captious, offi- 
cious, fault-finding spirit, is to be guarded against, as almost sure 
to defeat the end at which it aims. A friend is entitled to have 
the best possible construction put upon his conduct, of which the 
circumstances admit. He is even entitled to have his conduct 
viewed with a reasonable share of indulgence by his friend ; and 
that querulous temper must not be indulged, which can only find 
perpetual occasion of complaint in the conduct of a friend, and 
which, like the constant dropping that u weareth away stones," 
will, in time, wear out the firmest friendship.* We must re- 
member, too, that if our friendly remonstrances fail of their de- 
sired effect, through any defect in the language we have used, 
any considerable want of judgment in the time we have chosen, 
or any serious impropriety in the tone and manner we have 
assumed, the friend so admonished is not the only one in fault ; 
we are ourselves in part responsible for the unpropitious result of 
our endeavours. 

(5.) Finally, it is a duty springing from this relation, to cher- 
ish the memory of a departed friend, to guard and protect his 
reputation, now committed to the keeping of his friends, and, with 
the remembrance of the past, to anticipate that future life, in 
which we may hope to rejoin him, and which, by this hope, 
presents new motives and new incitements to strengthen our 
virtue, and to quicken our preparation for our last and great 
change. " Though the most magnificent funeral pomp," says 

* Palfrey's Sermons, p. 190, 191 



Chap. VIII.] THE DUTIES OF FRIENDSHIP 259 

the Marchioness de Lambert, u be the tears and the silent sor- 
row of those who survive, and the most honorable sepulture be in 
their hearts, we must not think that tears which are shed from 
the sensibility of the moment, and sometimes, too, from causes, 
which, in part at least, relate to ourselves, acquit us of all our 
obligation. The name of our friends, their glory, their family, 
have still claims on our affection, which it would be guilt not to 
feel. They should live still in our hearts, by the emotions 
which subsist there ; in our memory, by our frequent remem- 
brance of them ; in our voice, by our eulogiums ; in our conduct, 
by an imitation of their virtues." # 

3. Abuses and violations of friendship. The great value of 
friendship, the resources of happiness which it opens to us, and 
the benefits which it is fitted to confer on all who are qualified to 
perform its duties, appreciate its blessings, and yield to its kindly 
influences, render some consideration of its abuses and violations 
useful. A complete enumeration of them, however, much less 
any considerable illustration of them, cannot be attempted within 
the limits to which I am compelled to confine myself. 

(1.) One abuse of friendship consists in the wish and attempt 
to monopolize the time, the attention, the affections, and the 
services of friends. Juvenal, among other sarcasms which he 
inflicts on the Greeks, says it is their characteristic never to be 
satisfied with a friend unless they can monopolize him. 

" Non est Romano cuiquam locus hie, ubi regnat 
Qui, gentis vitio, nunquam partitur amicum ; 
Solus habet." t 

There are persons whose friendship is of so exacting a kind, 
that they are unwilling to see a friend admitting any other to his 
confidence and intimacy. Such friendship is strongly tinctured 
with selfishness, jealousy, and envy ; three of the worst passions 
which disgrace human nature. 

(2.) Another abuse of friendship is, to consider it chiefly a 
matter of profit, and to enter into it with a principal view to the 
personal advantages, such as honor, w T ealth, or pleasure, which 

* CEuvres, Tome I. p. 248; Brown's Philosophy, Vol. III. p. 395, 396. 
I Sat. III. 119-122. 



260 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

we expect to obtain by it. This is to reduce friendship from 
the elevated social and moral rank, which it ought to sustain, to 
the level of an ordinary copartnership in trade or other business. 
It is a connexion of selfishness, of convenience, of pure personal 
interest, and not of friendship. Whatever of profit comes from 
friendship, is circumstantial and incidental to it, not essential. 
Cicero often remonstrates against this abuse of friendship, although 
he admits, that almost every personal advantage, besides the other 
blessings which it is fitted to impart, is incidental to it. He says, 
that " many persons are most fond of those friends from whom 
they expect to receive the most benefit, and that such persons 
belong to that class of men, who can see nothing good in human 
affairs but what is profitable."* 

(3.) Friendship is grossly abused, when one friend expects 
from another any thing which is inconsistent with good manners, 
good morals, the law of the land, or religion, or which is other- 
wise wrong or improper. Cicero reviews and illustrates each of 
these particulars in his usual happy style ; but my limits do not 
permit me to avail myself of the materials, which he has fur- 
nished to my hands, f 

(4.) The duty of friendship is grossly violated, when we with- 
draw our attachment and regard from any one, in consequence of 
a reverse of fortune, or other adverse circumstances not pertain- 
ing to his personal merits and character. To this abuse of 
friendship, the distinguished and the prosperous of every kind 
are peculiarly exposed. " The rich hath many friends," says 
the wise man." Again, "Wealth maketh many friends, and 
every man is a friend to him that giveth gifts." J u There are 
persons," says a valuable writer, " to whom the title of summer 
friends has been applied ; who, without any directly sordid view 
to the promotion of their interest, attach themselves to the pros- 
perous and eminent for the indulgence of their vanity, in seeming 
to be in credit with such persons ; or load with favors and atten- 
tions those who are coming forward into notice, to signalize them- 
selves as the patrons of rising merit. Such individuals are not 
without their use, but it would be a gross abuse of language to 

* De Amicitia, c. 8, 9, 13, 15, 21. t Idem, c. 10, 11, 13. 

t Proverbs xlv. 20 ; xix. 4, 6. 



Chap. VIII.] THE DUTIES OF FRIENDSHIP. 261 

call them friends. They are a kind of thermometer, by which 
one may know the temperature of the public feeling towards him, 
their assiduities with exact regularity subsiding or rising as that 
feeling grows cool or ardent."* 

(5.) Cicero considers it an abuse of friendship, when superi- 
ors in birth, fortune, education, personal accomplishments, or any 
thing else, arrogate any thing to themselves in consequence of 
these advantages ; and when those, who are conscious of their 
inferiority in these respects, make it a subject of murmuring and 
complaint, that Providence has not conferred like superior advan- 
tages on them. He says, u As superiors ought, in friendship, to 
use condescension, so, to enjoy this connexion, inferiors ought 
to elevate themselves." f The same thing may be as well ex- 
pressed by saying, that, in this relation, all considerations of supe- 
rior and inferior ought to be entirely lost sight of. 

(6.) It is still another abuse of friendship, when friends cher- 
ish expectations of perfection in each other, which human nature, 
by reason of its many infirmities, is entirely incapable of satisfy- 
ing, and of which they do not furnish an example in themselves. 
They expect in their friends, perfections which they are not ac- 
customed to exhibit in themselves in return. We must entertain 
moderate expectations of our friends and associates, unless we 
are willing to be disappointed. We must be prepared to see and 
tolerate, with patience, some things of which we disapprove. It 
is a good rule, too, to be strict with ourselves, while we grant a 
liberal indulgence to others, in whatever way connected with us. 

4. The last duty of friendship respects its close. After using 
all possible precautions in the choice of our friends ; after 
performing all the duties of this relation with faithfulness, and 
cautiously avoiding the abuses and violations incidental to it ; — 
still the painful necessity must sometimes occur of dissolving 
our friendships. This necessity may arise from several causes. 
We may have been mistaken, — ■ our friend may not be such a 
man as we have taken him to be, — there may not, after all, be 
that correspondence of tastes, inclinations, and wishes, which we 
had believed to exist, — collisions of interest, of principle, or of 

* Palfrey's Sermons, p. 178. t De Amicitia, c. 20. 



262 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

party, may unexpectedly have caused alienation of feeling, — or, 
lastly, our friend may have forsaken the path of honor and virtue, 
and after all possible attempts to reclaim him, we may have been 
unsuccessful. By the last of these contingencies, all friendship 
must inevitably be broken ; and, by each of the others, its disso- 
lution is threatened. From these very contingencies, however, 
certain grave duties arise. 

(1.) The first of these duties is this. When alienation of 
feeling is threatened from any cause, or has commenced, we 
ought to use our best endeavours to remove the cause, and restore 
the confidence and good feeling which once existed. Between 
good men, earnest and sincere endeavours, and a reasonable 
share of moderation and mutual forbearance, will most gener- 
ally insure this happy result. There are few misunderstandings 
between friends, which, in the first stages, may not be reconciled, 
if reconciliation is prudently attempted and earnestly desired. 

(2.) But, even if all efforts of this kind have proved unsuc- 
cessful, it is still a high duty of friendship not to violate the 
confidence which has been mutually reposed. It is sufficiently 
unhappy, that the bond of a relation so intimate must be broken ; 
the duty still remains of permitting nothing to be disclosed, which 
was imparted under the seal of confidence. The only exception 
to this, is, when a former friend has himself first broken the seal 
of confidence, and has so far violated this duty, as to make it a 
ground of assailing our conduct and character. In such a case, 
we must be permitted to defend ourselves ; and, to this end, we 
may rightfully use what has been imparted to us under the con- 
fidence of a friendship, broken without our fault, and now at- 
tempted to be used to injure us. 



Chap. IX.] BENEFACTOR AND BENEFICIARY. 263 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE RELATION OF BENEFACTOR AND BENEFICIARY, 
AND ITS DUTIES. 

This is a relation originating in feelings on the part of the 
benefactor which do honor to human nature, accompanied by 
actual benefits conferred in the way of personal services, pecuni- 
ary aid, or in some other way. The first duty of a benefactor, 
is, fully and conscientiously to meet and satisfy all the just and 
reasonable expectations, which his conduct towards his beneficia- 
ry may have raised.* Again, it is a duty arising from the relation 
thus voluntarily created by himself, to prevent, by a kind conde- 
scension, the obligation of the benefit from being oppressively 
felt by him on whom it has been conferred. He ought to make 
the sense of his favors press as lightly as possible on the mind of 
his beneficiary. Not only so, it is appropriate to the situation in 
which he has by his own act placed himself, to cherish a perma- 
nent interest in the welfare of the subject of his kindness and 
friendly regard. 

Gratitude seems to be one of the native moral impulses of our 
nature ; and, so ready is this emotion to spring up in every good 
mind, that ingratitude to a benefactor has, in every age, been 
considered as proof of a natural obliquity of understanding, and 
of unusual insensibility and perverseness of moral feeling. The 
first emotion of every susceptible mind, on receiving good, is, 
love of him from whom he receives it ; the next emotion is, the 
wish to render him some corresponding return of service. It is 
the duty of the beneficiary, therefore, to study the gratification 
and advance, as far as may be, the interests and the happiness of 
him, by whom his own have been advanced without expectation 
of reward. The duties of the beneficiary are the more important, 
inasmuch as ingratitude tends so much to dry up the fountain of 
beneficence. 



* See above, p, 204. 



264 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

This relation may be abused by a benefactor in two ways, — 
perhaps in more. 

1. He may attempt to exact from his beneficiary, compliances 
and services which are inconsistent with good manners, good 
morals, the law of the land, or religion, or which are otherwise 
wrong or improper. By any attempt thus to avail himself of his 
situation to extort such compliances, he makes himself an oppres- 
sor of the most odious kind. If such was his original design in 
conferring benefits, he has spread a snare for the conscience and 
character of him who has received them, and the beneficiary is 
absolved from all obligation of gratitude. And, if such was not 
his original design, yet if, after suitable remonstrances, he still in- 
sists on exacting or expecting such compliances, the beneficiary 
is in like manner absolved. Nothing improper, still less immoral, 
can be rightfully exacted by virtue of this relation. 

2. Again r the situation of a benefactor may be abused, by his 
ungenerously upbraiding a beneficiary with the favors which he 
has received. " This is odious conduct," says Cicero. He 
continues thus, — " It is the part of him, on whom favors are 
conferred, to remember them ; not of him who rendered, to com- 
memorate them." # Such an act is inconsistent with all proper 
sense of character, still more with all delicacy of feeling. It 
tends to extinguish all the kindly feelings which are appropriate 
and honorable to the relation. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE DUTIES OF HOSPITALITY. 



Too much is said in the Old and New Testament, of the du- 
ties of hospitality, to permit a writer on practical Christian mor- 
als to omit this part of his subject. In Genesis xviii. 2-8 ; xix. 
1-3, we have, in the cases of Abraham and Lot, two very inter- 
esting and instructive examples of patriarchal hospitality, which 

* De Amicitia, c. 20. 



Chap. X.] DUTIES OF HOSPITALITY. 265 

v 

show, that delicate attentions and courteous treatment of guests 
were well understood in those primitive times. 

St. Paul makes use of these attractive examples of patriarchal 
hospitality, to encourage Christians, and to persuade them to the 
observance of this duty, saying, that they who have practised it 
have had the honor of entertaining angels under the form of men.* 
One ground of the condemnation of the wicked in the day of 
judgment will consist in their not having received strangers with 
hospitality. f St. Paul makes one of the qualifications of a bishop 
to consist in his being " given to hospitality." J St. Peter en- 
joins, " Use hospitality one to another without grudging." § The 
primitive Christians made the exercise of hospitality a special 
part of their duty, and were so exaet in its discharge, as to ex- 
cite the admiration of the surrounding heathen, by whom they 
were watched with a vigilant eye. They were hospitable to all 
strangers, — more especially to those who were of the same faith. 
Letters of recommendation, given to believers, procured them a 
hospitable reception wherever the name of Christ was known. 

Besides the protection, relief, and personal comfort, which 
hospitality affords, and which especially it was accustomed to 
afford in ancient times, when "violence was abroad in the 
earth," and the restraints of law were comparatively feeble ; its 
fruits at all times are, the cultivation of social intercourse, mu- 
tual kindness and good feeling, the removal of unjust prejudices, 
&c, — objects always important. Josephus understands the 
provision of the law of Moses, which required all the Hebrews 
to assemble three times a year at Jerusalem, to have been partly 
designed to give opportunity for the cultivation of a friendly in- 
tercourse and good feeling by personal acquaintance, festive en- 
tertainments, and other social meetings. || This assembling of 
the great body of the nation thrice a year, in the capital city, 
must have furnished infinite occasions for giving and receiving 
hospitality. 

So far as the exercise of festive and social hospitality is con- 
cerned, it is liable to two very manifest abuses, which ought to 
be carefully guarded against by every good man. 

* Heb. xiii. 2. t Matt. xxv. 43. t 1 Tim. iii. 2. § 1 Peter iv. 9, 

|| Antiquities of the Jews, Lib. IV. ch. 8, sect. 7. 
34 



266 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

1. When, in the interchange of hospitalities of this kind, men 
incur expenses beyond those, which in sober calculation are jus- 
tified by their resources and means of living. When men are of 
a social temper, there is always a strong temptation and tendency 
to fall into this abuse ; higher claims are, in consequence, disre- 
garded, higher duties are neglected, debts are incurred, and per- 
haps the patrimonial estate is wasted. The hospitality, too, 
which has respect to the personal comfort and accommodation of 
others, especially to their wants and necessities, is a duty of 
manifold greater importance, than that which spreads the festive 
board, and presides over the social circle ; and it is the former 
branch of hospitality, which is chiefly commended by the sacred 
writers. One ground of the benediction, to be pronounced by 
our Saviour on the righteous, at the day of judgment, will be, 
that they have hospitably entertained strangers, as well as given 
food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty ; — and one ground of 
his malediction upon the unrighteous, on the same most solemn 
and august of all occasions, will be, that they have refused the 
claims of hospitality to strangers, as well as refused to give food 
to the hungry, and drink to the thirsty.* Even the heathenism 
of the Greeks and Romans invoked the vengeance of the high- 
est divinity known to, and acknowledged by, the heathen system, 
against all who treated with cruelty and bad faith the unprotected 
and way-worn stranger. f Some nations have been distinguished 
for hospitality, (we have all heard, for instance, of Arabian hos- 
pitality,) who seem to have few other virtues. 

2. Again, it is a flagrant abuse of hospitality, when festive and 
social entertainments are made the occasions of luxury, intem- 
perance, or excess of any kind. Christianity subjects men to 
no hardships. It justifies them in eating and drinking, and in 
enjoying, with sobriety and temperance, the full measure of the 
fruits of their labor. But it justifies no excess or intemperance 
of any kind or degree. And, to be satisfied of the magnitude of 
the abuse, to which the pleasures of the table always tend, it is 
only necessary to call to mind the enormous and criminal extent 
to which they have sometimes been actually carried. Instances, 

* Matt. xxv. 31-46. I Odyssey, IX. 269-278. 



Chap. XL] DUTIES OF GOOD NEIGHBOURHOOD. 267 

without number, of this criminal abuse, must crowd on the mem- 
ory of every one who is at all acquainted with the later Roman 
writers, especially Juvenal, and even with those of the Augustan 
age, who frequently contrast the extreme luxury, extravagance, 
and excess of the times in which they lived, and the accompany- 
ing decay of virtue, decline of the national energies, and extinc- 
tion of the spirit of liberty, with the plain living, independence 
of mind, energy of character, self-reliance, unconquerable spirit 
of liberty, and the rest of the host of hardy virtues, which flour- 
ished in the times of the Commonwealth. I cannot enter into 
details, — but the luxury and extravagance of the later Romans 
became such, that, as M. Peignot has remarked, u The gastro- 
nomic reputation of the Romans became no less colossal, than 
their political and military renown." The luxuries and extrava- 
gances of the table among the modern nations of Europe do not 
seem to equal those, which, we are assured, existed in the ancient 
nation I have just mentioned ; but they are quite enough to ex- 
cite the disgust of every man of sense and sobriety, much more 
of every serious Christian.* 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE DUTIES OF GOOD NEIGHBOURHOOD. 

The duties of good neighbourhood form a branch of our rela- 
tive and social duties, which ought not to pass entirely unnoticed. 
The chief duties of good neighbourhood are, to render mutual 
aid, as circumstances may require, to cultivate social and friendly 
intercourse, and to preserve harmony and good feeling among 
those whose lot in life Providence has cast near each other. A 
single individual may do immense good in his neighbourhood, by 
using his influence to promote peace, to improve morals, man- 

* An industrious writer has collected a vast number of details on this subject, 
pertaining both to the Greeks and Romans, and to the nations of modern Eu- 
rope, in "The American Quarterly Review," Vol. TI. pp. 422 -458 ; and in 
"The Southern Review," Vol. III. pp. 416-430. 



268 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

ners, and the state of society in general ; by forming associations 
to accomplish what he cannot do by his unassisted endeavours ; 
by disseminating useful knowledge and good principles ; by set- 
ting an example of industry, temperance, and public spirit ; by 
projecting or encouraging useful enterprises ; by encouraging the 
support of schools and churches ; by introducing improvements 
in agriculture, new inventions in machinery, &c. 

1. It may be well to glance at some legal considerations, and 
principles of a general nature, pertaining to the duties of good 
neighbourhood. It is often said, that "it is lawful for every man 
to do what he will with his own ; that he may use his own prop- 
erty and his person as he pleases, and even his tongue and his pen, 
if he always adheres to the truth. But, as a rule of universal 
application, nothing can be more erroneous. It is always subject 
to this essential limit and modification, that no injury be thereby 
done to his neighbour." As has been said before, the rule of 
the municipal law, as far as it can be enforced by human sanc- 
tions, is identical with the golden rule of our Saviour, by which 
we are required to do to others as we would wish them to do 
to ourselves, in an exchange of situation and circumstances.* 
" Thus, in general, a man may lawfully erect what buildings he 
pleases on his own land ; but yet not so as to deprive his neigh- 
bour of the light to which he has acquired a title by long and un- 
interrupted enjoyment. He may carry on what trade he pleases ; 
yet not so as to render the air unwholesome to others, or essen- 
tially to impair their comfort. He may govern his family with 
more or less regulation, and manage his affairs with much or little 
noise, as he pleases ; yet, when his house becomes the scene of 
common brawls, or the noise made on his premises becomes in- 
tolerable to his more quiet neighbours, he becomes the subject 
of legal animadversion. He may employ his capital in the pur- 
chase of goods at his pleasure ; yet, should he buy up the whole 
stock in market of any one article of the necessaries of life, corn 
for example, — with a view to create a scarcity and enhance the 
price for his own advantage, the law would regard him as nothing 
better than a £ rogue in grain,' and punish him accordingly. He 

* See above, p. 214. 



Chap. XL] DUTIES OF GOOD NEIGHBOURHOOD. 269 

may order, at his pleasure, the rites of sepulture for his depend- 
ants who die, yet so that common decency is respected ; for, if 
this be violated, the law will not suffer the outrage to pass un- 
punished. In fine, the law protects every member of society in 
the quiet possession of his private property, his liberty, his repu- 
tation, the common comforts of light and air, and the enjoyment 
of the public peace. And it is only in subserviency to these 
rights, that any one may do what he will with his own." 

<c It is on this principle that the law of libel is founded ; which 
forbids the impertinent and malicious publication, even of the 
truths if it tends to disgrace another, and to provoke him to a 
breach of the peace. The offences which men may have com- 
mitted in time past against society, if repented of and atoned for, 
ought to be forgiven. The penitent should have some motive 
to acquire a new character for virtue, in the assurance that he 
shall be protected in its enjoyment. ' If private intermeddlers, 
assuming the character of reformers, should have the right mali- 
ciously to arraign others before the public, and, when called to 
account, to defend themselves by breaking into the circle of 
friends, families, children, and domestics, to prove the existence 
of errors or faults which may have been overlooked and forgiven 
where they were most injurious ; the party thus accused, without 
lawful process, might be expected to avenge himself by unlawful 
means, and duels or assassinations would be common occur- 
rences.'* Hence the publication of disgraceful truth is unlawful, 
unless it is done with good motives and for justifiable ends." f 

2. This class of our social and relative duties, may be illus- 
trated further, by adverting to the chief causes, occasions, and 
circumstances, which are accustomed to disturb and injure neigh- 
bourhoods. 

(1.) Great unhappiness is frequently caused in neighbourhoods 
by slander, tale-bearing, jealousy, envy, prying by one neighbour 
into the concerns of another, &c. Slander sows the seeds of dis- 
cord, tale-bearing scatters them far and wide, and in due time, 
springs up a plentiful harvest of heart-burnings, evil surmises, and 
quarrels of every kind which can embitter life and render existence 

* Pickering's Reports, Vol. III. p. 313. 

t Manuscript Lecture of Professor Greenleaf, of Harvard University. 



270 THE RELATIVE DUTIES OF MANKIND. [Part III. 

miserable. One neighbour is, perhaps, more successful than 
another, in the management of his affairs ; or he acquires a larger 
share of honor and esteem ; hence, again, arise jealousy, envy, 
and ill-will, manifested on every occasion, and in every form 
which can annoy and disturb him against whom these baleful 
passions are excited. 

(2.) Again, neighbourhoods are frequently disturbed by mutual 
irritations, proceeding originally from very slight provocations. 
Two adjoining neighbours, perhaps, both lay claim to the same strip 
or nook of land, of no real importance to either. At first, they 
mutually urge their claims in moderate and decent language ; by 
and by one of them uses angry and irritating expressions ; to this 
succeed mutual abuse and menaces ; at length comes actual vio- 
lence, in expectation of which, each arms himself for combat ; 
and, it may be, the loss of the life or limbs of one or both of 
the combatants is the fruit of a controversy originally insignificant. 

(3.) Sometimes a single individual, of a restless and turbulent 
temper, disturbs an entire neighbourhood, by exciting quarrels 
and lawsuits, fomenting jealousies, forming parties, &c. One 
or a few individuals may make a neighbourhood so uncomfortable 
and undesirable, that the worthy and peaceable may be com- 
pelled to leave it in self-defence. Juvenal mentions one way of 
doing this,* and a hundred other ways of doing the same thing 
are known to every bad neighbour. 

* Sat. XIV. 145. 



PART FOURTH. 

PERSONAL DUTIES AND OBLIGATIONS, OR THE 
DUTIES OF MEN TO THEMSELVES. 

Our duties to ourselves, well denominated by an English 
writer, "personal morality,"* maybe comprised under seven 
divisions. I. The preservation of life and health, including a 
discussion of suicide. II. The improvement of the corporeal 
faculties. III. Cultivation of the powers of the mind generally, 
including discipline of the temper and passions, and attention to 
manners and personal habits. IV. Cultivation of a strong, deli- 
cate, and permanent sense of duty. V. Cultivating personal 
religion, and the personal virtues. VI. Cultivating a delicate 
sense of honor. VII. Guarding ourselves against prejudices, 
antipathies, prepossessions, &c. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE DUTY OF PRESERVING LIFE AND HEALTH, INCLUDING 
A DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE. 

If there is any difficulty in putting our duty to preserve life 
and health beyond all controversy, it arises from its being so 
plain, that there is no medium of proof by which to make it more 
manifest. The Christian religion looks upon all our capacities of 
improvement and usefulness, as so many talents intrusted to our 
administration, and for the use of which we are to be held re- 
sponsible.] And that our life is the talent of superlative value, 

* Estlin's Lectures on Moral Philosophy, No. VII. 
t Matt. xxv. 14 - 30 ; Luke xix. 12 - 27. 



272 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

when compared with all others committed to us, is a position too 
manifest to require illustration, much less, argument. Life and 
health, then, still more than the other talents which we enjoy, are 
to be regarded as treasures intrusted to our keeping by the Al- 
mighty, to be used for our own good and the good of our fellow- 
men. 

By the duty of preserving life and health, therefore, I mean 
much more than abstaining from positive and known injury to 
either. Health may be ruined, and even life may be lost, by 
neglect as well as by positive injury. Not only so ; a person 
may pursue a course, undeniably calculated to impair his health 
and shorten his life. Moreover, the duty to preserve life and 
health includes the duty of using the means of preserving them, 
such as temperance, exercise, cheerfulness of mind, and whatever 
else conduces to prolong life and preserve health. On this sub- 
ject, I may quote the advice of Cicero, which seems to me to 
comprise the substance of entire volumes. " Health is pre- 
served," says he, " by a knowledge of one's constitution [no- 
titid sui corporis), and by observing what things and circum- 
stances benefit, and what injure it, by temperance and modera- 
tion, in meats and drinks, by forbearance and abstinence from 
hurtful pleasures and every kind of excess ; and, when all these 
means fail, by the use of medicine and the skill of physicians.* 

This duty, imperative on all men, to preserve life and health, 
and to use all the means known to conduce to this end, enables 
me to approach, with advantage, the discussion of the difficult 
and important subject of suicide, which was esteemed proper, 
lawful, and even heroic, by the ancient sect of the Stoics ; and 
has sometimes been defended, as well as frequently practised, 
in modern times. Dr. Smith affirms, that the lawfulness and 
propriety of suicide was a doctrine common to all the sects of 
ancient philosophers ; and he has ingeniously, if not satisfactorily, 
traced the prevalence of this doctrine among the Greeks, to the 
habitual state of public affairs in that country. f It is true that 
the case of Cato, called by Dr. Smith, " the venerable martyr 
of the republican party," was excused (not commended, as he 

* De Officiis, Lib. II. c. 24. t Theory of Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. pp. 78 - 80. 



Chap. I.] DUTY OF PRESERVING LIFE AND HEALTH. 273 

says,) by Cicero himself, who, though substantially (potissimum) 
a Stoic in his moral principles, was manifestly against suicide 
generally.* Still it is matter of just regret, that this great phi- 
losopher should in any case, or in any degree, have given counte- 
nance to the crime of suicide. 

Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, the most illustrious of all the 
philosophers of antiquity, not only gave no countenance to sui- 
cide, but gave their voice decisively against it. And this single 
fact must very much qualify, if it does not indeed destroy, Dr. 
Smith's assertion, that the lawfulness of suicide was a doctrine 
common to all the ancient sects. Indeed, I may well ask every 
man acquainted with ancient authors, and accustomed to form an 
estimate of ancient opinions, What is the ancient doctrine or 
opinion worth, against which Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle take 
their stand ? Reinhard f has expanded, illustrated, and enforced 
the reasoning of Socrates and Plato against suicide, in the co- 
pious, lucid, and persuasive style in which he has treated so 
many other subjects, and has shown, that the voice of philosophy 
and natural religion give no countenance to, and make no apology 
for, this crime. 

The New Testament nowhere contains a positive prohibition 
of suicide ; and from this it has sometimes been supposed, that 
Christianity does not regard it as an offence against religion and 
morals. To this, various satisfactory replies may be given. If 
it is one of our highest duties to preserve life and health ; to de- 
stroy life knowingly and intentionally must be highly criminal. 
Again ; we are forbidden, under the most severe penalties, by 
the sacred writers, to take away the lives of others ; — can it be 
other than a high offence, to take away our own ? Moreover, 
an implication may be, under certain circumstances, scarcely 
less strong and conclusive than a positive prohibition; and the 
implication in regard to suicide is as strong and conclusive, as 
implication can in any case be. 

Thus, human life is represented as a term appointed or pre- 

* De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 2, 31. 

t "DeMorte Voluntaria quid et quam clare praecipiat Philosophia," contained 
in his " Opuscula Academica," Vol. I. pp. 67 - 92. See particularly, pp. 67, 73, 87, 
note. 

35 



274 . PERSONAL DUTIES [Part IV. 

scribed to us ; it is a race set before us, — it is our course, — it 
is a course to be finished, - — to be finished with joy, — we have 
need of patience, that, after we have done the will of God, (that 
is, discharged the duties of life so long as God is pleased to con- 
tinue us in it,) we may receive the promise.* This way of view- 
ing human life, commended to us by St. Paul, seems to me as 
inconsistent as possible with the doctrine, that w T e are at liberty 
to determine the duration of our lives for ourselves, f 

Again, Christ and his Apostles inculcate no quality so often or 
so earnestly, as patience under affliction. Now this virtue would 
have been, in a great measure, superseded, and the exhortations 
to its practice might have been spared, if the disciples of our 
Saviour had been at liberty to quit the world, as soon as they 
grew weary of the ill usage which they received in it. When 
the afflictions of life pressed severely upon them, they were ex- 
horted to look forward to a "far more exceeding and eternal 
weight of glory," — they were to receive them as " chastenings 
of the Lord," — as intimations of his care and love ; — by these 
and the like reflections and motives, they were to support and 
improve themselves under their sufferings ; but not a hint has 
escaped them, that they might seek relief in a voluntary death. 
One text, in particular, strongly combats all impatience under dis- 
tress, of which that may be supposed the greatest which prompts 
to suicide, to wit, — " Consider him that endured such contradic- 
tion of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in 
your minds." \ On this text, it may be inquired, 1. Whether 
a Christian convert, who had been impelled by the continuance 
and severity of his sufferings to destroy his own life, would not 
have been thought by the author " to have been weary, to have 
fainted in his mind," and to have disgraced the example, which is 
here proposed for the meditation of Christians when in distress ? 
2. Whether such an act would not have been attended with all 
the circumstances of mitigation, which can excuse or extenuate 
suicide at this day ? § 

Further, the conduct of the Apostles, and of the Christians of 

* Hebrews xii. 1 ; 2 Timothy iv. 7 ; Acts xx. 24 ; Hebrews x. 36. 
t Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 227. % Heb. xii. 3. 

.§ Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 227, 228- 



Chap I] DUTY OF PRESERVING LIFE AJND HEALTH 275 

the Apostolic age, furnishes no obscure indication of their senti- 
ments on this subject. They lived in a confirmed belief of hap- 
piness to be enjoyed by them in a future state. In this world 
every extremity of injury and distress was their allotment. To 
die was gain. The change, which death brought with it, was, in 
their expectation, infinitely beneficial. Yet it never, that we can 
find, entered into the mind of any one of them, to hasten this de- 
sirable change by an act of suicide, from which, it is difficult to 
say, what motive could have so universally restrained them, ex- 
cept a conviction of unlawfulness in the act. * It is, then, equally 
the sentiment of philosophy and of religion, both natural and re- 
vealed, — " All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till 
my change come."f 

We must be still further convinced of the unlawfulness and 
criminality of suicide, if we bring the practice to the further test 
of the general consequences which it involves. \ Indeed, there 
is no subject in morals, to which the test of general consequences 
can be more successfully and properly applied. Particular and 
extreme cases of suicide may be imagined, and may arise, of 
which it would be difficult to assign the particular mischief, or 
from that consideration alone, to demonstrate the guilt ; but this 
is no more than what is sometimes true of universally acknowl- 
edged vices. Possible cases, even of the highest crimes known 
to the law, might be proposed, which, if they could be detached 
from the general rule, and governed by their own particular conse- 
quences alone, it would be no easy undertaking to prove criminal. 

When brought to this test, the question is no other than this ; 
May every man who chooses to destroy his life, innocently do 
so ? Limit and discriminate as we please, it will come at last to 
this question. For, shall we say, that we may commit suicide, 
when we find that our continuance in life has become useless to 
mankind ? Any one may make himself useless, who pleases ; 
and persons given to melancholy are apt to think themselves 
useless, when they really are not so. Suppose a law were enact- 
ed, allowing each individual to destroy every man he met, whose 
longer continuance in the world he might judge to be useless; 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 228. 
t Job xiv. 14. t See above, pp. 33-37. 



276 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

who would not condemn the latitude of such a rule ? Who does 
not perceive, that it would, in substance, be a permission to com- 
mit murder at pleasure ? A similar rule, regulating the right over 
our own lives, w T ould be capable of the same abuse. Besides 
which, no one is useless for the purpose of this plea, but he who 
has lost every capacity and opportunity of being useful, together 
with the possibility of recovering any degree of either ; — a state 
of such utter destitution and despair, as cannot, I presume, be 
affirmed of any man living. 

Again, shall we say, that to depart from life voluntarily, is law- 
ful for those alone, who leave none behind them to lament their 
death ? If this consideration is to be admitted at all, the subject 
of inquiry will be, not whether there are any to lament us, but 
whether their pain, caused by our death, will exceed that which 
we should suffer by continuing to live. Now this is a compari- 
son of things so indeterminate in their nature, so capable of vary- 
ing judgments, and concerning which the judgment will differ so 
much according to the state of the spirits, or the pressure of any 
present anxiety, that it would scarcely vary, in hypochondriacal 
constitutions, from an unqualified license to commit suicide, 
whenever the distresses, which men felt or fancied, rose high 
enough to overcome the pain and dread of death. Men are never 
tempted to destroy themselves but when under the oppression of 
some grievous uneasiness ; — the restrictions of the rule, there- 
fore, ought to apply to these cases. But what effect can we ex- 
pect from a rule, which proposes to weigh one pain against anoth- 
er ; the misery that is felt, against that which is only conceived ; 
and in so false a balance, too, as the party's own distempered 
imagination. 

In like manner, whatever other rule we assign, it will ultimate- 
ly bring us to an indiscriminate toleration of suicide, in all cases 
in which there is danger of its being committed. What then 
would be the consequence of such toleration ? Manifestly, the 
loss of many lives to the community, of which some might be 
valuable ; the affliction of many families, and the apprehension of 
all ; for mankind must live in continual apprehension for the fate 
of their friends and dearest relatives, when the restraints of reli- 
gion and morality are withdrawn ; when every disgust, which is 



Chap. I.] DUTY OF PRESERVING LIFE AND HEALTH. 277 

powerful enough to tempt men to suicide, shall be deemed good 
cause to justify it, and when the follies and vices, as well as the 
inevitable calamities of life, so often make existence a burthen. 

Besides the reasons against suicide derived from philosophy 
and natural religion, from Christianity, and from the general con- 
sequences, each case will be aggravated by its own proper and 
particular consequences ; by the duties that are deserted ; by 
the claims that are defrauded ; by the loss, affliction, or disgrace, 
which our death, or the manner of it, causes our family, kindred, 
or friends ; by the occasion we give to many to suspect the sin- 
cerity of our moral and religious professions, and, together with 
ours, those of all others ; by the reproach we draw upon our 
order, sect, or calling ; finally, by a great variety of evil conse- 
quences attending upon peculiar situations, with some or other of 
which every actual case of suicide is chargeable. 

Besides these more general motives, fitted to dissuade from sui- 
cide, one, more particular, may be addressed to all who are tempted 
in this way. By continuing in the world, and in the practice of 
those virtues which remain within our power, we retain the op- 
portunity of meliorating our condition in a future state. And there 
is no condition in human life, which is not capable of some 
virtue, active or passive. Even piety and resignation under the 
sufferings to which we are called, testify a trust and acquiescence 
in the divine counsels more acceptable, perhaps, than the most 
prostrate devotion ; afford an edifying example to all who observe 
them ; and may hope for a recompense among the most arduous 
of human virtues. These qualities are always in the power of 
the miserable ; indeed, of none but the miserable.* 

Legislation has been resorted to, both in this country and in 
England, to prevent suicide ; but without any good effect. If the 
love of life, so natural to man, the prohibitions of Christianity, 
the restraints of public opinion, the general consequences and 
particular aggravations of every act of this kind, and the other 
motives to which I have adverted, are not effectual to prevent 
suicide, — it is in vain to rely on any enactments of penal law, 
however severe these may be. The offending party is beyond 

* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, pp. 223 - 226. 



£78 PERSONAL DUTIES [Part IV. 

the reach of legal penalties ; the confiscation of his estate is 
punishing the innocent for the offence of the guilty, and any in- 
dignities offered to his remains, will only render his relations, 
already made unhappy by his conduct, still more unhappy. 
When moral considerations have failed, legal penalties will be 
ineffectual. 



CHAPTER II. 

IMPROVEMENT OF THE CORPOREAL FACULTIES. 

Another personal duty consists in the preservation and im- 
provement of our corporeal faculties. On the importance of 
physical education, which chiefly consists in skilfully calling forth 
the corporeal powers, strengthening and maturing them by health- 
ful exercise and appropriate training, and bringing them to all 
attainable perfection, I have before briefly remarked.* 

The personal qualities, and consequently the usefulness and 
happiness of the man, depend, in no small degree, on the strength, 
vigor, elasticity, and general good constitution of the body, on 
the flexibility and good proportional developement of the limbs, 
and on its ability to resist exposure, to sustain fatigue, and en- 
dure labor and privation of every kind. And such is the recip- 
rocal action of the body and the mind on each other, that what- 
ever affects the one, must in a greater or less degree affect the 
other. Moreover, a good constitution of body, and high im- 
provement of the corporeal powers, the result of a judicious and 
persevering physical education, can be maintained only by a 
continuance of the same salutary exercise and discipline. An 
eminent Roman author well says, 

" Orandurn est, ut sit mens sana in corpore sana. 
Fortem posee animum, et mortis terrore carentem, 
Qui spatium vitse extremum inter munera ponat 
Naturae, qui ferre queat quoscumque labores, 
Nesciat irasci, cupiat nihil, et potiores 
Herculis aerumnas credat, sasvosque labores, 
Et Venere, et ccenis, et pluma Sardanapali." t 

* See above, pp. 149, 150. t Juvenal. Sat. X. 356-362. 



Chap. III.] CULTIVATION OF THE MIND. 279 

A sound mind in a sound body, — a mind proof against passion, 
however violent, and inaccessible to degrading pleasures, how- 
ever enticing, and a body able to bear any labors, however ardu- 
ous, — is the perfection of the physical and intellectual man. 
Finally, physical accomplishments are intimately connected with 
moral, as well as intellectual ; and, for this reason again, it is 
still more a personal duty to aim at the utmost physical improve- 
ment of which we are capable. 



CHAPTER III. 

CULTIVATION OF THE POWERS OF THE MIND, 

It is, then, a duty to cultivate and, if possible, to perfect our 
physical powers. But it is a still higher duty to cultivate the 
faculties of the mind generally ; and, in this cultivation, we are 
to include the discipline of the temper and passions, and atten- 
tion to manners and personal habits. 

The intellectual and moral faculties are the chief prerogative 
by which man is distinguished, and are the most valuable bles- 
sings conferred on him by the Almighty. In their natural state, 
however, they are capabilities of reflection and usefulness, rath- 
er than faculties actually in exercise. In too many cases, they 
continue substantially in this state, through life. In every case, 
they wait to be called forth by cultivation and discipline. By 
neglect, by disuse, by sloth, they remain unawakened and unim- 
proved. Even when awakened and cultivated, vice and profli- 
gacy waste, corrupt, and ruin them. Extremely feeble in infancy, 
these powers, under wise and judicious cultivation and discipline, 
are susceptible of almost indefinite improvement. Some aid 
may be given towards improving them, by instruction, and by 
the advice, suggestions, encouragements, and example of others ; 
and still more by the direction which others are frequently instru- 
mental in giving them ; but, with slight qualifications, all mental 
cultivation and excellence, of whatever kind, are the fruit of the 
personal sacrifices, efforts, and energy of the individual. 



280 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

The most skilful and persevering instructer can do little more 
than give his pupils an opportunity of learning ; their actual ad- 
vancement must depend on the diligence and efforts, which they 
are willing to use. This is true of all mental cultivation, intel- 
lectual, social, and moral. Parents, instructers, and other friends 
may do something ; but any well-marked, and especially any unu- 
sual success, must come from the personal endeavours of the 
individual. It may be added, for the encouragement of those 
who are willing to make the trial, that, wherever the wish for 
mental improvement has been sincere, decisive, and persevering, 
inspired with enthusiasm to attain the end in view, prepared to 
make sacrifices and submit to self-denial with cheerfulness, such 
wish has not often been destined to disappointment. 

We shall see most distinctly the importance of the duty of 
cultivating the mental powers, and the rewards which wait on its 
successful performance, if we estimate it by the effects with 
which it has sometimes been crowned. Not to ascend higher 
than comparatively late times, — Lord Bacon, after spending 
much of his life in active pursuits, viewed human knowledge in 
all its dimensions, marked its errors and defects, and pointed out 
the path to its renovation and extension. Newton's views and 
conclusions were coextensive with the material universe ; his 
sublime genius excluded confusion and disorder from all the do- 
minions of the Almighty, and proved that they are all resplen- 
dent with the elements of beauty, grandeur, and sublimity. 
Locke ascended to the sources of thought and reflection, and 
subjected the senses, powers, and faculties of the understanding 
to the most acute, comprehensive, and searching analysis. At 
the present day, no man can expect to be highly useful or suc- 
cessful, whose mental faculties have not been carefully disciplined 
and fully invigorated and matured. 

Nor does this discipline and improvement, which I am attempt- 
ing to illustrate, refer to the understanding alone ; it embraces 
equally the temper, the passions, the affections, the habits, and 
the manners. These all refer to the mind, and are equally ca- 
pable of cultivation. The various faculties of our nature, too, 
should be cultivated in due proportion, harmony, and consistency 
with each other. " There is no profession or pursuit," says 



Chap. III.] CULTIVATION OF THE MIND. 281 

Dugald Stewart, " which has not habits peculiar to itself ; and 
which does not leave some powers of the mind dormant, while 
it exercises and improves the rest. If we wish, therefore, to 
cultivate the mind to the extent of its capacity, we must not rest 
satisfied with that employment which its faculties receive from 
our particular situation in life. A variety of exercises is neces- 
sary to preserve the animal frame in vigor and beauty ; and a 
variety of those occupations which literature and science afford, 
added to a promiscuous intercourse with the world, in the habits 
of conversation and business, is no less necessary for the im- 
provement of the understanding." Again he says, "It ought 
not to be the leading object of any one to become an eminent 
metaphysician, mathematician, or poet ; but to render himself 
happy as an individual, and an agreeable, a respectable, and a 
useful member of society. A man who loses his sight, improves 
the sensibility of his touch ; but who would consent, for such a 
recompense, to part with the pleasures which he receives from 
the eye ? " # 

So far as the acquisition of knowledge is concerned, it seems 
to have been the settled conviction, probably from time imme- 
morial, that it is attainable by a very few only, — that it can be 
expected to be attained only by men who have studied long in 
halls devoted to learning, by professional men, and persons of 
fortune and leisure, — and that it is not in the power of the 
humbler classes of society, especially of those who subsist upon 
manual labor and mechanical industry, to engage in the pursuit of 
it with any reasonable hope of success. The Son of Sirach has 
spoken the general sentiments, which men of every age and 
country seem to have been accustomed to entertain on this sub- 
ject. He says, in bis beautifully simple style, " The wisdom of 
a learned man cometh by opportunity of leisure ; and he that 
hath little business shall become wise. How can he get wisdom 
that holdeth the plough, and that glorieth in the goad, that driveth 
oxen, and is occupied in their labors, and whose talk is of bul- 
locks ? He giveth his mind to make furrows ; and is diligent 
to give the kine fodder. So every carpenter and workmaster, 

* Elements of the Philosophy of the Mind, Vol. I. pp. 18-20. 
36 



282 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

that laboreth night and day ; and they that cut and grave seals, 
and are diligent to make great variety, and give themselves to 
counterfeit imagery, and watch to finish a work. The smith, 
also, sitting by the anvil, and considering the iron work, the va- 
por of the fire wasteth his flesh, and he fighteth with the heat of 
the furnace ; the noise of the hammer and the anvil is ever in his 
ears, and his eyes look still upon the pattern of the thing that he 
maketh ; he setteth his mind to finish his work, and watcheth to 
polish it perfectly. So doth the potter, sitting at his work, and 
turning the wheel about with his feet, who is always carefully set 
at his work, and maketh all his work by number ; he fashioneth 
the clay with his arm, and boweth down his strength before his 
feet ; he applieth himself to lead it over ; and he is diligent to 
make clean the furnace. All these trust to their hands, and 
every one is wise in his work. Without these cannot a city be 
inhabited ; and they shall not dwell where they will, nor go up and 
down ; they shall not be sought for in public council, nor sit high 
in the congregation ; they shall not sit on the judges' seat, nor 
understand the sentence of judgment ; they cannot declare justice 
and judgment ; and they shall not be found where parables are 
spoken."* 

This graphic description of the condition of the laboring class- 
es, and of their inability to attain knowledge and enjoy its ben- 
efits, is strictly true as applied to ancient times ; but, so far as it 
regards modern times, since the invention of printing, and the 
facilities which it has introduced for acquiring knowledge, it must 
be received with much qualification. It has been made known 
by the experience of later times, and it is one of the most gratify- 
ing results, which the people of any age have witnessed, that 
high mental improvement is capable of much greater extension, 
than was ever supposed, or even conjectured, prior to such ex- 
perience* The object is, to improve the mind and enlarge its 
capacities by the acquisition of knowledge. Now mind is the 
inheritance with which God has endowed all the children of the 
great family of man ; it cannot, therefore, be monopolized by 
any class of society. It is a treasure, which, beyond an equal 

* Ecclesiasticus xxxviii. 24 - 33. 



Chap. Ill ] CULTIVATION OF THE MIND. 283 

proportion, is not given to the children of the wealthy ; it is a 
talent bestowed alike on all, whatever may be their external con- 
dition. Nor is this all : mind is in all men, and in every man, 
the same active, living, creative, immortal principle, — it is the 
man himself. A renowned philosopher of antiquity beautifully 
said of the intellectual faculties, — ■ " I call them not mine but 
me." These make the man ; these are the man. 

I am too well convinced of the immense value of the various 
seminaries of learning in our country, which public and private 
liberality has founded, not to estimate them as highly as any man. 
They cannot well be estimated too highly ; — they have contrib- 
uted beyond measure, to the respectability, honor, and welfare of 
the country, in the highest and best sense of these terms. Still 
it may be affirmed, with perfect truth, of the great benefactors of 
mankind, — of the men, who, by wonderful inventions, remarkable 
discoveries, and extraordinary improvements, have conferred the 
most eminent service on their fellow-men, and gained the highest 
renown in history, — by far the greater part have been of humble 
origin, small advantages, and self-taught. To rouse the under- 
standing to a consciousness of its own powers ; to kindle, nour- 
ish, and invigorate its capacities, in order that it may learn to 
compare, to contrive, to invent, to improve, and to perfect, is 
the spring of all valuable improvement, and is within the reach of 
every man, without distinction of birth or fortune. In this great 
respect, then, the most important that touches the condition of 
man, we are all substantially equal. It is not more true, that all 
men possess the same natural senses and organs, than that their 
minds are originally endowed with the like capacities of im- 
provement, though not probably all in the same degree. 

As men bring with them into life, like intellectual endowments, 
that is, minds susceptible of like, if not equal improvement, — so, 
in a country like ours, the means of personal improvement are 
much more equally enjoyed, than might be supposed at first sight. 
Whoever has learned to read, possesses the keys of knowledge ; 
and can, whenever he pleases, not only unlock the portals of her 
temple, but penetrate to the inmost halls and most secret cabinets. 
A few dollars, the surplus of the earnings of the humblest indus- 
try, are enough to purchase the use of books, which contain the 



284 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

elements of the entire circle of useful knowledge. If it be said, 
that a considerable part of the community have not time to give 
to the cultivation of their minds, a satisfactory reply is not diffi- 
cult. It is only necessary to make the experiment, to ascer- 
tain two things, — the one, how much useful knowledge can be 
acquired in a moderate time ; — and again, how much time can, 
by good management, be spared from the busiest day. As a 
general fact, our duties leave us time enough, if our passions 
would spare it to us ; our labors are much less pressing in their 
calls upon us, than our indolence and our pleasures. There are 
very few pursuits in life, whose duties are so unremitting, that 
they do not leave some time every day to a man, whose temper- 
ate and regular habits allow him the comfort of a clear head and 
cheerful temper, in the intervals of business. Besides, there is 
one day in seven, which is redeemed to us, by our blessed reli- 
gion, from the ordinary calls and avocations of life, and affords all 
men a reasonable portion of time for the improvement of their 
rational and immortal natures. 

It is a mistake to suppose, that any class of men have much 
time to spend, or do actually spend much time, in mere contem- 
plation and solitary study. A small number of men, professedly 
literary, habitually do this ; but the very great majority of profes- 
sional men, — lawyers, physicians, and clergymen, men in public 
stations, rich capitalists, merchants, — men, in short, who are 
often supposed to possess eminent advantages and ample leisure 
to cultivate their minds, are all very much occupied with the 
duties of life, and constantly and actively employed in pursuits 
very uncongenial to the cultivation of the mind, and the attain- 
ment of useful knowledge. 

We may take for illustration, the case of a distinguished lawyer 
in full practice at the bar. He passes his days in his office, giv- 
ing advice to clients, often on the most uninteresting and paltry 
details of private business, or in attending, in court, to the same 
kind of business ; and, when it is night, and he returns to his home 
fatigued and harassed ; instead of sitting down to read or to rest, 
he is compelled to study another perplexed cause for the next 
day, or to go before referees, or to attend a political meeting, 
where he is expected to make a speech ; — while every moment, 



Chap. III.] CULTIVATION OF THE MIND. 285 

which can be regarded, in any degree, as leisure time, is consum- 
ed by a burthensome correspondence. Besides all this, he has 
his family to take care of, as well as other men. It is plain, that 
he has no more leisure for the liberal cultivation of his mind, in- 
dependent of his immediate profession, than if he had been em- 
ployed the same number of hours in mechanical or manual labor. 
One of the most common complaints of professional men, in all J 
the professions, is, that they have no time for reading ; and it 
may well be believed, that there are many such, of very respec- 
table standing, who do not, in any branch of knowledge uncon- 
nected with their immediate professions, read the value of an 
octavo volume in the course of a season.* 

This subject will receive still further illustration, if I briefly 
advert to a few individuals, who, from the most adverse influences 
of birth and fortune, have risen to the highest eminence of useful 
distinction. The story of Demosthenes, and the extraordinary 
obstacles, of almost every kind, which he overcame on his way to 
distinction, — ill health, obscure origin, defective utterance, and 
prominent personal infirmities, are known not only to every class- 
ical scholar, but to every reader of general history and biography. 

" Quem mirabantur Athens 
Torrentem, et pleni moderantem fiasna theatri." t 

Cicero, too, J won the distinction which he acquired, by his love 
of knowledge, his courage, his industry, his self-denial, and his 
perseverance. Cato, the celebrated Roman censor, learned the 
Greek language when very far advanced in life. To come, 
however, at once to late times, with which we shall, perhaps, 
have more sympathy, — Laplace, the celebrated French mathe- i 
matician and physical astronomer, who, in these sciences, un- 
questionably ranks next to Sir Isaac Newton, was the son of a 
farmer in Normandy. The celebrated German metaphysician, » 
Kant, was the son of a harness-maker, who lived in the suburbs \ 

* At least, such is the opinion of one so well qualified to judge as Mr. Edward 
Everett, the present Governor of Massachusetts, expressed in his Franklin 
Lecture, delivered at Boston, 14th November, 1831, to which several paragraphs 
of this chapter are considerably indebted. 

t Juvenal, Sat. X. 127. 

t Called by Juvenal, " novus Arpinas ignobilis," Sat. VIII. 237. 



•-. 



286 PERSONAL DUTIES. : [Part IV. 

of his native city, Konigsberg. Heyne, the celebrated classical 
scholar and editor, in the Memoirs of his own life, says, — 
" Want was the earliest companion of my childhood. I well re- 
member the painful impressions made on my mind by witnessing 
the distress of my mother, when without food for her children." 

(The father of Sir Humphrey Davy pursued the employment 
of a carver, at Penzance, in Cornwall, and from this humble 
(origin, the son became the most renowned and successful chem- 
ist of the present century. Vauquelin, the celebrated French 
chemist, was apprenticed to an apothecary, and acquired the 
Latin language by tearing the leaves from an old dictionary, 
and always having some of them in his hand, when traversing the 
streets with medicines, and executing other commissions in his 
master's service. These examples are fitted to give an impulse 
to the energies of those who are most industrious and most enter- 
prising. When we look into the lives of such men, the cause of 
their success is no longer a secret to us ; we cease to be sur- 
prised at the distinctions which they won. When we observe 
the series of struggles, which they endured amidst poverty, ob- 
scurity, and neglect, their disciplined passions, their love of 
knowledge, their firmness of purpose, and their unconquerable 
zeal and perseverance, we perceive, that their success has follow- 
ed in the train of their exertions by the ordinary law of cause and 
effect. 

But it is not necessary to resort to foreign sources to illustrate 
the importance of cultivating the faculties of the mind, and the 
rewards which wait on such cultivation. The history of no na- 
tion on earth more abounds with instructive examples of this kind 
than our own. The circumstances under which the celebrated 
Roger Sherman rose to eminence and distinguished usefulness, 
have been noticed in another connexion.* David Rittenhouse 
was entirely self-taught in mechanics. When he took up the 
business of a mathematical instrument and clock maker, he made 
many implements of his trade with his own hands. From the 
age of nineteen to twenty-five, he applied himself unremittingly 
to his trade and his studies, devoting the day to the former, and 

* See above, p. 228. 



Chap. III.] C^TIXATION OF THE MIND. 287 

much of the night to the latter. Samuel Huntington was en- 
gaged in the labors of the farm, until his twenty-second year, [ 
when he commenced 'the study of the law, and rose to be a dis- 
tinguished member of Congress, and was chief justice of the 
Supreme Court, and chief magistrate of his native State (Con- 
necticut), during many years. Dr. Thomas Baldwin may be 
said to have commenced the education which fitted him for his 
distinguished course of usefulness in the Christian ministry, 
when he was thirty-eight years of age. If propriety permitted 
me to use the names of persons still living, many other examples 
equally striking and instructive might be cited. But, of all ex- i 
amples, that of Dr. Franklin is probably the most instructive 
and cheering to those, whose humble circumstances require them 
to be the architects of their own fortunes. His father was accus- 
tomed to quote this verse of the Proverbs of Solomon ; " Seest 
thou a man diligent in his business ? he shall stand before kings ; "* 
and the Memoirs of the son warrant us in believing, that it had a 
decisive influence on his aspiring genius. Born in the lowest 
obscurity, his industry and enterprise raised him to be the com- 
panion and adviser of kings. Lord Chatham said, he was u one, 
whom all Europe held in estimation for his knowledge and wis- 
dom, and ranked with Boyle and Newton ; who was an honor, 
not to the English nation only, but to human nature." f 

But why review the cases of individuals any further ? Our 
entire country is a great and striking illustration of what may be 
done by native force of mind, self-education, without advantages, 
but springing up under strong excitement, and embarking in 
new and successful undertakings. Nowhere do we meet with 
examples more numerous and more brilliant, of men who have 
risen above poverty, obscurity, and every other discouragement, 
to usefulness and an honorable fame. The statesmen who con- 
ducted the revolution to its successful issue, were called, gene- 
rally without experience, to the head of affairs. The generals 
who commanded our armies, were most of them taken, like Cin- 
cinnati, from the plough ; and the forces which they led, were 
gathered from the firesides of an industrious and peaceable popu- 
lation. They were arrayed against all the experience, talent 



5 



* Chap. xxii. 29. i Franklin's Works, Vol. I. pp. 85, 322. 



288 PERSONAL DUTIE^|«5 * [Part IV. 

and resources of the older world, and came off victorious. 
They have handed down to us a country and, a constitution, and 
have put us upon a national career, afForcypgboundless prospects 
to every citizen, and calling every individual to do for himself, 
what our fathers unitedly did for the country. What young man 
can start in life, with so few advantages, as our country started 
with, in the race of independence ? Over whose private pros- 
pects, can there hang a cloud so dark as that which brooded over 
the cause of colonial British America ? Who can have less to 
encourage, and more to appal and discourage him, than the sages 
and chieftains of the revolution ? Let our young men, then, en- 
deavour to walk in their path, and each, according to his means 
and ability, try to imitate their illustrious example, despising dif- 
ficutties, grasping at opportunities, and steadily pursuing some 
honest and manly aim. They will soon find, that the obstacles 
which oppose their progress, sink into the dust before a firm 
and resolute step ; and that the pleasures and benefits of knowl- 
edge are within the reach of all, who seek this invaluable treas- 
ure. In these observations, however, on the cultivation of the 
mind, I of course do not mean to say, that the condition, in 
which persons are placed, is a matter of indifference. This 
would be going much too far. Unquestionably there are limits, 
beyond which, the doctrine I have laid down and attempted to 
illustrate, does not apply. There are circumstances of birth 
and general condition, against the adverse influence of which, 
children, who are affected by them, cannot be expected, compara- 
tively often, to make their way. 

There are two classes of persons, in particular, whose children 
are called, in the providence of God, to overcome special ob- 
stacles to mental cultivation ; and whose situation, in this respect, 
may be made the just subject of still further remark ; — the 
very wealthy ; 

" cuncta exsuperans patrimonia census, 
Quanto Delphinis balaena Britannica major;" 

and those who are either paupers, or are but just above the 
depths of pauperism, 

" quorum virtutibus obstat, 
Res angusta domi." * 

* Juvenal. X. 13. Idem, III. 164. 



Chap. IV.] CULTIVATION OF A SENSE OF DUTY. 289 

The situation of both these classes is unfavorable to mental cul- 
ture, and it is not certain, which of them has the greatest diffi- 
culties to surmount. The means of the poor man are extremely 
scanty ; he is beset with many discouragements, if not with des- 
pair ; and he habitually feels, that mental cultivation is, in his 
case, unattainable. Still many, immersed in the depths of pover- 
ty, have broken through all its difficulties and discouragements. 
On the other hand, the love of ease, amusement, and pleasure, — 
indolence with its seductions and fascinations, — gaming with its 
excitements, — fashion with its frivolities, — pride, vanity, and 
ostentation, beset the children of the very wealthy, on their way 
to improvement, virtue, eminence, and usefulness. 



CHAPTER IV. 

CULTIVATION OF A STRONG, DELICATE, AND PERMANENT 

SENSE OF DUTY. 

Every man owes it to himself to cultivate a strong, delicate, 
and permanent sense of duty. The general importance of act- 
ing uniformly on this principle has been so earnestly insisted on 
before,* that I need not do much more than simply advert to it 
in this connexion. 

A sense of duty is the helm by which we are to guide our 
course ; nothing can or will supply the want of it. A good 
temper, a general good intention, a general disposition to do 
right, will not supply its place. It is something more than 
either or all of these. They approach it, they resemble it, 
they constitute a part of it. Still it is something more than 
all of them. Firmness and perseverance are among its constitu- 
ent parts, and obstinacy and self-will are among the counterfeits 
of it, by which men are most apt to impose on others, and even 
on themselves. Without being governed by a sense of duty, 
the individual will be prompted by caprice, by passion, by preju- 

* See above, pp. 11-14. 
37 



290 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

dice, by antipathy, by the seductions of pleasure, by the reck- 
lessness of false honor, by the aspirations of a criminal ambition, 
or by whatever other feeling, humor, impulse, or principle, may 
happen for the moment to have the ascendency. 

The being governed by a sense of duty embraces a suitable 
regard to every consideration, principle, sentiment, opinion, 
relation, fact, and circumstance from which any duty, of whatever 
kind, can spring. The requirements of Scripture, the law of 
the land, regard for consequences, propriety, (which, as Lord 
Kames well says, is not left to our own choice ; but, like jus- 
tice, is required at our hands ; and, like justice, is enforced by 
natural rewards and punishments,) * decency, delicacy, — every 
thing which can give rise to a duty, however small, is acknowl- 
edged to have a claim to attention and regard. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE DUTY OF CULTIVATING PERSONAL RELIGION AND THE 

PERSONAL VIRTUES. 

A sacred writer, one whose experience in human affairs was 
perhaps unexampled, says, " Trust in the Lord with all thine 
heart ; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy 
ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. Be not 
wise in thine own eyes ; fear the Lord and depart from evil. 
Wisdom is the principal thing ; therefore get wisdom ; and, with 
all thy getting, get understanding. Exalt her, and she shall pro- 
mote thee ; she shall bring thee to honor, when thou dost em- 
brace her. She shall give to thine head an ornament of grace ; 
a crown of glory shall she deliver to thee." f This language is 
as beautiful, as the sentiments are persuasive, valuable, and 
authoritative. Besides the sacred Scriptures, the duty of culti- 
vating personal religion might be argued and illustrated from 
several sources. But, neglecting every other, I shall confine 

* Elements of Criticism, Vol. I. p. 272. t Proverbs iii. 5-7; iv. 7-9. 



Chap. V.] CULTIVATION OF PERSONAL RELIGION. 291 

myself to the practical beneficial effect produced by personal re- 
ligion on the entire character of the man. And to this end, I 
shall use the sentiments, and avail myself of the experience, of 
several individuals distinguished in more than one walk of life, in 
preference to my own. 

Lord Chatham, in advising his nephew (Thomas Pitt) while 
at the University of Cambridge, writes thus ; — "I come now to 
the point of the advice I have to offer you, which most nearly 
concerns your welfare, and upon which every good and honorable 
purpose of your life will assuredly turn. I mean the keeping up 
in your heart the true sentiments of religion. If you are not 
right towards God, you can never be so towards man ; the no- 
blest sentiment of the human breast is here brought to the test." 
Again he says, c - 4 Remember thy Creator in the days of thy 
youth,' is big with the deepest wisdom ; c The fear of the Lord 
is the beginning of wisdom ; and an upright heart, that is under- 
standing.' This," continues he, " is eternally true." "Hold 
fast, therefore, by this sheet-anchor of happiness, religion ; you 
will often want it in the times of most danger, the storms and 
tempests of life. Cherish true religion as preciously, as you will 
fly, with abhorrence and contempt, superstition and enthusiasm. 
The first is the perfection and glory of human nature ; the two 
last, the depravation and disgrace of it. Remember," he con- 
cludes, cc the essence of religion is, a heart void of offence 
towards God and man ; not subtile speculative opinions, but an 
active vital principle of faith."* Another statesman says, u The 
individuals, the communities, that are penetrated with a truly re- 
ligious spirit, and exercise the moral qualities which flow from 
that source only, regularly prosper. They inherit the earth. 
Those that pursue a different course, as regularly dwindle into 
nothing and disappear." f 

Again, the most accomplished and successful chemist of the 
present century says, " I envy no quality of the mind or intellect 
in others ; not genius, power, wit, or fancy ; but, if I could choose 
what would be most delightful, and, I believe, most useful to 
me, I should prefer a firm religious belief to every other blessing ; 

* Letters to his Nephew, at Cambridge, Letter IV. 

t Speech of Alexander H. Everett in the Senate of Massachusetts, 1833. 



292 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

for it makes life a discipline of goodness, creates new hopes 
when all earthly hopes vanish, and throws over the decay, the 
destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all lights ; awak- 
ens life even in death, and from corruption and decay calls up 
beauty and divinity." Again he says, "Religion, whether natu- 
ral or revealed, has always the same beneficial influence on the 
mind. In youth, in health and prosperity, it awakens feelings of 
gratitude and sublime love, and purifies at the same time that it 
exalts ; but it is in misfortune, in sickness, in age, that its effects 
are most truly and beneficially felt ; when submission in faith, and 
humble trust in the divine will, from duties become pleasures, un- 
decaying sources of consolation ; then it creates powers which 
were believed to be extinct, and gives a freshness to the mind 
which was supposed to have passed away for ever, but which is 
now renovated as an immortal hope. Its influence outlives all 
earthly enjoyments, and becomes stronger as the organs decay 
and the frame dissolves ; it appears as that evening star of light 
in the horizon of life, which, we are sure, is to become in an- 
other season a morning star, and it throws its radiance through 
the gloom and shadow of death." * Such are the sentiments, 
and such the result of the experience and reflection, of men of 
the most cultivated understandings, and of the most enlarged ac- 
quaintance with human affairs. 

The impression so generally prevailing, that sound religious 
sentiment is a matter of comparative indifference, or, at most, 
of inconsiderable importance, is one of the besetting sins and 
errors of the age and times in which we live. In ancient times, 
religious belief was regulated by enactments of the legislature, 
and enforced by the civil magistrate ; and a man's faith, still more 
than his practice, was decided upon and adjusted by the tribunals 
of criminal jurisdiction. In those times, a man's religious faith 
was imposed on him as imperatively as the law, which prescribed 
his civil duties, or which regulated the title by which he held his 
estate. No one can wish for the return of those times, and, if 
their return was possible, every good man must deprecate their 
approach as one of the greatest possible calamities. But, by the 

* Consolations in Travel, or the Last Days of a Philosopher, by Sir Hum- 
phrey Davy, pp. 23, 206. 



Chap. V.] CULTIVATION OF PERSONAL RELIGION. 293 

sacrifices of blood and treasure made by our ancestors to estab- 
lish religious freedom and the free profession of religious faith, 
they never intended to sanction, much less encourage, an utter 
indifference to all religion. Religious freedom differed, in the 
view of our fathers, as widely from indifference to religion, as 
civil freedom differs from universal license and anarchy. 

Nor, in permitting each individual to form his religious senti- 
ments without restraint and without responsibility to other men, 
did they intend to divest him of that responsibility to his con- 
science and his God, which springs from the nature of this most 
important of all subjects, and from which, (that is, personal and 
individual responsibility,) as he cannot divest himself, so no 
power on earth can divest him. 

In securing, too, perfect religious freedom for all men, our in- 
stitutions impose a personal and individual responsibility on every 
man, which is, in a great measure, unknown in regard to every 
other subject. The law of the land is prescribed to us by our 
legislatures, and is authoritatively declared to us by our tribunals 
of justice. For the law of the land, therefore, no man is indi- 
vidually responsible, otherwise than as a member of the commu- 
nity to which he belongs. To aid in the management of the 
civil affairs of the citizens, the law has provided legal advisers, 
and has rendered them responsible for the advice which they 
give. So also the physician is made legally responsible for the 
safety of his patient. But the law prescribes his religion to no 
man, nor is his spiritual adviser made responsible for his advice. 
In this respect, our institutions have departed from their usual 
policy, and have charged every man with the full, undivided, and 
unqualified responsibility of securing his own salvation. I have 
thought it useful to illustrate this personal responsibility, which 
rests on every American citizen, in regard to his religious senti- 
ments and character, and his destiny beyond the grave, because 
I am convinced that it is not always well understood.* 

The personal virtues are to be cultivated in connexion with 
personal religion, and as its natural fruit and genuine offspring. 
It is probable, indeed, that the personal virtues have been culti- 

* See an Address delivered by the author to the Graduates of the College 
of Charleston, at the Commencement of 1835, pp. 12- 14. 



294 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

vated in every age, in a greater or less degree, in connexion with 
religion, natural or revealed, and under its influence. This may 
be distinctly seen in many passages of the writings of the an- 
cient philosophers ; but it may be still more distinctly seen in a 
numerous class of Christian writings. 

The importance of self-examination, to ensure any consider- 
able progress, either in intellectual or moral improvement, has 
always been understood, and the New Testament enjoins this as 
a special Christian duty. Accordingly pious Christians have, at 
all times, made it their special care to cultivate the peculiar vir- 
tues of our religion, on a plan, of which self-examination has 
made an essential part. Many such plans have been committed 
to writing by their authors, and have had merit enough, in the 
opinion of their friends, to justify their publication after their 
death. We have them under the form of private journals, in 
which is an entry, from day to day, of the feelings, trials, tempta- 
tions, failings, encouragements, obstacles, backslidings, and ad- 
vances of the authors, in pursuing the Christian life, all detailed 
with the utmost sincerity, and apparently without any reserve. 
Or they consist of sets of resolutions, cautions, and admonitions, 
pertaining to the author's personal state, condition, and prospects, 
and designed to be reviewed occasionally or at stated seasons.* 
Many of these are instructive, especially in this point of view, 
that they make us acquainted with the most private thoughts of 
their authors in their most private hours, when they were entirely 
withdrawn from the gaze and influence of men. Some of them 
are of very great value, and almost all of them contain unques- 
tionable internal proof of their utility in enabling their authors to 
attain a standard of piety and virtue, which without their aid they, 
in all probability, would never have reached. 

But the most curious and interesting document of this kind, 
which, as far as I know, exists, is a plan devised and practised 
upon during many years by the celebrated Dr. Franklin, of which 

* The most valuable resolutions of this kind known to the author, are those 
of President Jonathan Edwards, which have often been published, and may be 
seen, probably, in any edition of his Works. They were written in early life, 
and manifestly contributed much to the formation of his moral and religious 
character. 



Chap. V.] CULTIVATION OF PERSONAL RELIGION. 295 

he has given minute details, in the curious and instructive auto- 
biography which he has left behind him. It is well known, that 
in early life he " conceived the bold and arduous project," as he 
well calls it, of arriving at moral perfection ; he wished " to live 
without committing any fault at any time, and to conquer all that 
either natural inclination, custom, or company might lead him 
into." He did not exclude religion from his scheme, (in truth, 
it acknowledges " God as the fountain of wisdom," and contains 
his religious creed, and a form of prayer for the divine assistance 
and guidance,) but it contained no distinguishing tenets of any par- 
ticular sect ; as he was persuaded, he says, that it might be service- 
able to people of all religions, and he was unwilling to have it con- 
tain any thing which might prejudice any one of any sect against 
it. He gives a very full and candid account of the means and 
effects which he used to attain his end. He admits, that he was 
not entirely successful, but says, it contributed very much to the 
improvement of his morals.* As one of the means of attaining 
his end, he made a list of the virtues which he wished perfectly 
to acquire, on which he carefully and frequently examined him- 
self. Under the circumstances, his list and arrangement of the 
virtues is, in some respects, instructive. The plan is commend- 
able and worthy of imitation, and, on the basis of sound views of 
Christianity, and a deep sense of personal religion, could not 
fail to be generally and very highly useful. 

Many of the virtues respect others chiefly, rather than our- 
selves ; — these are not personal virtues, as I make use of the 
phrase. Justice, for instance, respects the rights of others chief- 
ly. Of the virtues, more especially personal, Dr. Franklin enu- 
merates temperance, order, frugality, industry, moderation, clean- 
liness, tranquillity, chastity, and humility. This enumeration is 
very incomplete; — it admits of many additions, among which 
independence of mind, dignity, self-respect, firmness, consist- 
ency, evenness, cheerfulness, and sociability of temper, must, 
upon the slightest reflection, occur to every one. 

Temperance, as Dr. Franklin well observes, tends to procure 
that coolness and clearness of head, which are so necessary, 

* Franklin's Works, Vol. I. pp. 88-98, 



296 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

where constant vigilance is to be kept up, and a guard maintained 
against the unremitting u attraction of ancient habits," and the 
force of perpetual temptations. To this he ascribed his long- 
continued health and his good constitution. To frugality and 
industry, he ascribed "the early easiness" and independence of 
his circumstances, the acquisition of fortune and affluence, with 
all that knowledge which enabled him to be a useful citizen, and 
obtained for him the high reputation which he enjoyed among the 
learned. He was extremely sensible of the value of a habit of 
order and method, by which "all his things might have their 
places, and each part of his business might have its time," and he 
used the greatest exertions to acquire it. He was better satisfied 
with the fruit of his endeavours to acquire the other virtues, than 
with the result of those which he made to acquire this, to which 
he says he had not been accustomed from the outset of life, and 
with his progress in which he always seems to have been very 
much dissatisfied. He set himself to acquire humility, in conse- 
quence of being kindly informed by a friend, that his pride show- 
ed itself frequently in his conversation ; that he was not content 
with being in the right, when discussing any point, but was over- 
bearing, and rather given to insolence. To the joint influence of 
the virtues, even in the imperfect state in which, he says, he was 
able to acquire them, he was accustomed to ascribe all that even- 
ness of temper, and that cheerfulness in conversation, which made 
his company sought for, at a very advanced age, and agreeable 
even to his young acquaintances.* In respect to moderation, 
discipline of temper, and love of peace, he does not seem to 
have failed much of that perfection at which he aimed. His 
moral practice seems to have been more perfect, than his list of 
virtues is complete. The cardinal virtues, which he so assidu- 
ously cultivated, drew within their influence and attraction those, 
which are kindred to them, and which his enumeration does not 
contain. On various trying occasions, and under all becoming 
circumstances, he showed himself not wanting in firmness, self- 
respect, dignity, and independence of mind. 

Few men, too, have been more popular ; but he used no un- 



Franklin's Works, Vol. I. pp. 90, 94 - 96. 



Chap. V.] CULTIVATION OF PERSONAL RELIGION. 297 

worthy arts to acquire popularity. It is scarcely going too far, in 
this particular, to apply to him, all that Lord Mansfield claimed 
for himself. "I wish for popularity;" said that great jurist, 
" but it is that popularity which follows, not that which is run 
after. It is that popularity, which sooner or later, never fails to 
do justice to the pursuit of noble ends by noble means. I will 
not do that which my conscience tells me is wrong upon this 
occasion, to gain the huzzas of thousands, or the daily praise of 
all the papers which come from the press. I will not avoid doing 
that which I think is right, though it should draw on me the 
whole artillery of libels, all that falsehood and malice can invent, 
or the credulity of a deluded populace can swallow. I can say," 
continues he, " with another great magistrate, upon an occasion 
and under circumstances not unlike, Ego hoc animo semper 
fid, ut invidiam virtute part am, gloriam, non invidiam, puta- 
rem." * In thus adverting to the life of Dr. Franklin, to illustrate 
the duty of cultivating the personal virtues, I am justified, if not 
so much by the practice of modern writers, yet by the great 
writers of antiquity, with whom this was a favorite mode of illus- 
tration. It is in this way, that Cicero and Seneca have illustrated 
the moral doctrines and principles which they taught, by availing 
themselves of the acts, habits, traits of character, and example, 
not only of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, but of Cato, Fabius, 
Laelius, Scipio, and a host of other patriots and statesmen whose 
names adorn the Roman history, f 

* Quoted in Story's " Miscellaneous Writings," p. 415. 

t Dr. Franklin had it in mind, during many years, to write and publish a 
work on practical morals ; and he was only prevented from executing his inten- 
tion by the pressure of his private business, in the earlier part of his life, and, 
later in life, by public business. He proposed to entitle it, " The Art of Virtue, 
because," says he, " it would have shown the means and manner of obtaining 
virtue, which would have distinguished it from the mere exhortation to be good, 
that does not instruct and indicate the means." It was his design to explain and 
enforce this doctrine, " that vicious actions are not hurtful, because they are 
forbidden, but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of man alone con- 
sidered ; that it was, therefore, the interest of every one to be virtuous, who 
wished to be happy, even in this world; " and, from this circumstance, it was 
further his intention to " endeavour to convince young persons, that no qualities 
are so likely to make a poor man's fortune as those of probity and integrity." 
(Franklin's Works, Vol. I. pp. 96, 97.) It must be admitted, that Dr. Franklin's 
morals were by far too exclusively utilitarian in their character, and his intend- 

38 



298 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

In cultivating the personal virtues, no one thing is more indis- 
pensable to success, than the government of the temper and pas- 
sions ; among which jealousy, envy, anger, and its offspring, 
resentment, hatred, malice, and revenge, are the most dangerous. 
These passions are accustomed to disturb society enough ; but 
still more will they disturb and harass, if they do not destroy, the 
unfortunate individual, who gives way to them. 

The malignant affection, with which some ill-constituted minds 
are ever disposed to view those whom they consider as competi- 
tors, is called jealousy, when the competitor is one who has not 
yet attained the height on which themselves stand, and when it is 
the future advancement of a competitor that is dreaded. It is 
denominated envy, when it regards some actual attainment of 
another. But the passion, varying with this mere difference of 
the present and the future, is the same in every other respect. 
In both cases, the wish is a wish of evil, — a wish of evil to 
excellence of whatever kind. u Wrath is cruel, and anger is out- 
rageous ; but who is able to stand before envy ? " * There are 
minds, to which no scene of torture is half so dreadful, no pain 
half so exquisite, no sight half so disgusting, as superior virtue, 
excellence, and happiness. The envious man will wish all man- 
kind to remain in ignorance of important truths, if the most im- 
portant truths, that can be revealed to them, are to be the discov- 
ery of any other genius than his own. He will sigh over the 
relief which multitudes are to receive from the institutions of a 
wise benevolence, which he was not the first to prompt. He 
will sicken at the prosperity of his country, if this prosperity is 
made to enhance the glory of a rival. He will rejoice at the 
severest calamities which can afflict his country, if they can be 
turned to the disgrace, and much more to the ruin of a rival. 

One change, however, would, in a moment, dissipate all the 
malevolence of this gloomy and selfish spirit. It would only be 
necessary to drive from the earth, every thing worthy of love and 

ed work would have been, no doubt, strongly characteristic of his peculiar way 
of thinking on this subject. This work, too, is mentioned more than once in 
his correspondence with Lord Kames, in which he explains it further ; but his 
explanation is too long to permit me to quote it. (Life of Lord Kames, by Lord 
Woodhouselee, Vol. I. p. 372; Vol. II. p. 28.) 
* Proverbs xxvii. 4, 



Chap. V.] CULTIVATION OF PERSONAL RELIGION. 299 

approbation, — to make wisdom folly, kindness cruelty, heroic 
generosity sordid selfishness, and all the qualities, which raise 
admiration, the execration and disgust of mankind. The hatred 
of the envious might cease, where the hatred of the virtuous 
might begin. But the wishes of evil, which flow from such a 
breast, are still more evil to the breast which feels them, than 
to the excellence and happiness they are so willing to destroy. 
Hence it has been said of envy, paradoxically, that " it is at 
once the justest of passions, and the most unjust," — the most 
unjust, in the wrongs which it is ever conceiving or perpetrating 
against him who is its object ; the justest, in the punishment with 
which it is ever avenging on the envious man, the wrongs of 
which he has been guilty. This self-consuming misery of envy, 
is what happens to every envious man. He may, perhaps, over- 
throw his rival's glory, but he will be crushed, like the rival of 
Theagenes, beneath the glory which he overturns.* 

Nor do the more impulsive and vindictive passions of anger, 
and its kindred, malice and revenge, less impair personal excel- 
lence and happiness, than the malevolent passions, of which jeal- 
ousy and envy are the chief. u Anger," says Bishop Jeremy 
Taylor, u hath in it the trouble of sorrow, and the heats of lust, 
and the disease of revenge, and the boilings of a fever, and the 
rashness of precipitancy, and the disturbance of persecution."! 
u There is such a resemblance," says Seneca, u betwixt the 
transports of anger and those of madness, that it is not easy to 
know the one from the other. A bold, fierce, and threatening 
countenance, as pale as ashes, and in the same moment as red 
as blood ; a glaring eye, a wrinkled brow, violent motions, the 
hands restless and perpetually in action, wringing and menacing, 
snapping of the joints, stamping with the feet, the hair standing, 
trembling lips, a forced and squeaking voice, the speech false and 
broken, deep and frequent sighs, and ghastly looks ; the veins 
swell, the heart pants, the knees knock, with a hundred dismal 
accidents that are common to both distempers." J 

u Make no friendship," says a sacred writer, "with an angry 

* Brown's Philosophy of the Mind, Vol. 111. pp. 112- ) 15. 
t Works, Vol. I. p. 89. {. Morals, p. 269. 



300 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

man ; for wrath is cruel and anger is outrageous. He that hath 
no rule over his own spirit, (i. e. does not command his temper,) 
is like a city that is broken down and without walls. An angry 
man stirreth up strife, and a furious man aboundeth in transgres- 
sion." * 

Such is a specimen of the infirmities of temper, and the out- 
breakings of passion, which are accustomed to impair and ob- 
scure personal excellence. They are introduced as illustrative 
of this part of my subject ; but it is grateful to me, that any further 
notice of personal infirmities of any kind is uncalled for ; as it 
would be alike an irksome and an unprofitable labor. 

Moreover, I am warranted in saying, on the ground of Scrip- 
ture and experience, that the cultivation of personal religion, and 
of the personal virtues, contributes essentially to health, length 
of days, and success in the business of life. u Happy is the 
man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. 
Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches 
and honor." f It is probable, that this sentiment might be 
brought to the test of positive proof and actual experiment, by 
an extensive inquiry into the lives of individuals, especially into 
the lives of those whose biography we possess minutely and 
circumstantially written. Such an inductive examination my 
time and avocations have not permitted me to make ; but two 
specimens of testimony on this point have fallen in my way, 
which are so decisive and valuable, that I should do wrong to 
omit citing them. 

A gentleman, educated at one of our most distinguished col- 
leges, has furnished this statement respecting the class to which 
he belonged, not more than thirty years since. " It was a class," 
says he, " from which much was expected, as the instructers 
were often heard to declare, and was certainly not deficient, 
when compared with other classes, either as to numbers or tal- 
ents. Unhappily a very low standard of morals was prevalent ; 
only two of the class were free from the habit of profane swear- 
ing, and nearly all, except these two, would occasionally get in- 
toxicated. This class went out into the world as one of the 

* Proverbs x\u. 24 ; xxvii. 4 ; xxv. 28; xxix. 22. t Proverbs iii. 13, 16. 



Chap. V.J CULTIVATION OF PERSONAL RELIGION. 301 

hopes of the country. Comparatively, a small number of them 
ever occupied respectable and conspicuous situations. In twenty- 
two years after leaving college, two thirds of that class were 
known to have died ; and, of these, full one half died the victims 
of intemperance ; of the survivors, some now living are known to 
be in the lowest state of degradation." Another individual has 
given the character and history of another class, which was 
graduated less than forty years since. " It was numerous," 
says he; "the influence was decidedly in favor of morality. 
Before leaving college, a large proportion came under the power 
of religious principle, in consequence of a general revival of re- 
ligion. Twenty-jive years after the time of graduation, only one 
quarter of the class had died ; and, of the surviving three quarters, 
a large proportion were occupying stations of considerable use- 
fulness." 

These statements are highly instructive ; and it would be well, 
if others, in imitation of these gentlemen, would furnish direct 
testimony of the same kind, in regard to the connexion between 
early moral and religious character, and subsequent success in the 
business of life. The entire subject of such a connexion is 
worth a careful investigation. No persons are so well qualified 
to furnish the requisite information, as the aged graduates of our 
colleges. The reason of this is plain. No persons are so well 
acquainted with the real characters of each other, as those who 
have been associated in the relation of classmates at our col- 
leges, in the gay and fresh season of youth, when mankind are 
not accustomed to disguise their motives, feelings, intentions, 
and principles.* 

* See an Address delivered by the Author before the Euphradian Society of 
the College of Charleston, October 3d, 1833; p. 21. 



302 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE DUTY OF CULTIVATING A DELICATE SENSE OF HONOR. 

Every man owes it to himself to cultivate a delicate sense of 
honor. This might have been included in the former division, 
as one of the personal virtues ; but it is so frequently misunder- 
stood, and withal so important, that I shall give it a distinct illus- 
tration. 

When subjected to analysis, true honor is found to consist of 
the finest elements of feeling, of sentiment, and of action . It com- 
prises delicacy of sentiment, manly spirit, and high courage, 
physical, and especially moral. The slightest touch of the base, 
the mean, the vulgar, and the false, is contamination and abomi- 
nation in its sight. But I may well spare myself labor on this 
point, and avail myself of Cicero's analysis of honor (honestum), 
which, though made nearly two thousand years ago, still stands 
unrivalled. It is built, he says, on the superior nature and original 
excellence of man ; no animal having the slightest pretensions to 
claim such excellence. Indeed, he considers it synonymous 
with personal excellence of the most exalted kind. One of its 
ingredients is, the enlarged acquisition of knowledge on the most 
valuable and difficult subjects of inquiry. Purity, sincerity, in- 
tegrity, and truth enter largely into its composition. It com- 
prises a desire of influence, greatness of mind, and elevation of 
feeling above the usual estimate, tide, and course of human af- 
fairs. Still it acknowledges obedience to all just and lawful au- 
thority, of whatever kind, when justly and rightfully exercised. 
It admits and respects the claims of all duties, domestic, social, 
and patriotic, in their fullest measure. The observance of order, 
consistency, decorum, grace, dignity, and the most perfect 
propriety in all our sayings and doings, are among the particulars 
of which it consists. It is not insensible, too, to a nice and exact 
perception of the beautiful, the grand, and the sublime, in na- 
ture, and in human sentiments, actions, and character. It shrinks 



Chap. VI.] CULTIVATION OF A SENSE OF HONOR. 303 

from the approach of every thing impure, unmanly, and unbecom- 
ing in feeling, sentiment, and action. Of all these particulars is 
honor made up,* according to Cicero's analysis, — the beau ideal 
of every excellence, and imperishable in its claims to universal 
regard. f All the strict sects of ancient philosophers regarded it 
as the chief good (summum bonum), and the most considerable of 
them (the Stoics) regarded it as the only good. J And it was 
by expanding this beau ideal of human excellence in all its de- 
tails, § that the great Roman moralist produced the work, which 
has ever since continued to instruct the successive generations 
of mankind. 

This fine sense of personal honor, then, this combination of 
the rarest excellences of character, cannot well be too highly 
prized, or too carefully cultivated. It is to be cultivated in con- 
nexion with the other personal virtues of which it is the crowning 
glory (if indeed it does not include all of them), and more es- 
pecially in connexion with the graces of personal religion, from 
which, as their root, they all ought to grow. 

But, in the order of divine Providence, the best things and 
the best principles are productive of the very worst conse- 
quences, when they are misunderstood, perverted, or otherwise 
abused. This is preeminently the case with honor. Misunder- 
stood and perverted, this quality, so enchanting, so delighful, and 
so valuable, changes its nature and becomes false honor, — quick, 
jealous, selfish, vindictive, knowing no law, human or divine, 
and in its wrath not sparing even the companion of its youth and 
the friend of its bosom, but seeking vengeance on its victim in 
a practice (duelling), which has been truly called the relic of a 
barbarous age, an excrescence, which has fastened itself on the 
system of modern manners, and, entrenched in public opinion, 
has defied the efforts of legislatures, of courts of justice, of 
courts of honor, and of extensive associations of patriotic indi- 
viduals, themselves (par excellence) honorable men, combined 
for the explicit purpose of employing their influence and their 

* " Quibus ex rebus conflatum et efficitur id, quod quasrimus, honestum," 
says Cicero, De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 4. 

t Ibid. t Idem, c. 2, note ; Pearce's edition. 

§ Particularly in Book I. 



304 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

example to bring it into disrepute. It is no proof of courage ; 
many a man has been driven to the field of honor, falsely so 
called, for want of courage to refuse. A refusal to sanction this 
practice by resorting to it, is no proof of cowardice, — for not 
a few have refused to resort to it, who have not refused to meet 
death at the cannon's mouth ; to whom fear, in the way of their 
duty, was a feeling unknown ; who have dared to do right, be the 
consequences what they might, — who have respected the law 
of God and the law of their country more than an irresponsible 
public opinion, — who have feared nothing but what was base, 
mean, and false, — who have embraced the sentiment of the 
greatest of our dramatic poets, when he says, 

" I dare do all that may become a man ; 
Who dares do more, is none." 

It was a practice equally unknown to the manly Romans, those 
high-spirited conquerors of the world ; and to the polished 
Greeks, those originators of the arts and sciences, in which they 
have been the instructers of all succeeding nations. 

Such, as I have illustrated it, is the genuine meaning of honor ; 
such was the understanding of antiquity ; such is the analysis of 
Cicero ; — a combination of the highest personal excellences, to 
which human nature can, under the best culture, attain. 



CHAPTER VII. 



THE DUTY OF GUARDING OURSELVES AGAINST PREJUDICES, 

ANTIPATHIES, &c. 

It is a personal duty to guard ourselves against prejudices, 
antipathies, and prepossessions, which will lead us astray from the 
path of duty, truth, and even an enlightened self-interest. Pre- 
judice, prepossession, bias, aversion, antipathy, are all terms ex- 
pressive of an habitual state of feeling, that is, passion, under 
various shades, modifications, and degrees. The effect of them 
all is, to disturb the reason, to cloud and darken the understand- 
ing, and to pervert the conscience. Consequently, the evidence 



Chap. VII.] GUARDING AGAINST PREJUDICES. 305 

by which our opinions, sentiments, and conduct ought to be 
governed, is greatly obscured, and makes but slight impression. 
They all imply something wrong in our habits, education, ways of 
thinking, or usual state of feeling. In their more intense degrees, 
they are unquestionably criminal, — frequently they are highly so. 
Many of them are contracted very early in life ; but all of them 
are injurious, and it is our duty to divest ourselves of them as far 
as possible. 

" In such a state of society," says Dugald Stewart, " as that 
in which we live, the prejudices of a moral, political, and reli- 
gious nature, which we imbibe in early life, are so various, and, at 
the same time, so intimately blended with the belief we entertain 
of the most sacred and important truths, that a great part of the 
life of a philosopher must necessarily be devoted, not so much to 
the acquisition of new knowledge, as to unlearn the errors, to 
which he had been taught to give an implicit assent, before the 
dawn of reason and reflection. And, unless he submit in this 
manner to bring all his opinions to the test of a severe examina- 
tion, his ingenuity and his learning, instead of enlightening the 
world, will only enable him to give an additional currency, and 
an additional authority, to established errors. To attempt such a 
struggle against early prejudices, is, indeed, the professed aim of 
all philosophers ; but how few are to be found, who have force of 
mind sufficient for accomplishing their object ; and who, in free- 
ing themselves from one set of errors, do not allow themselves to 
be carried away with another ? To succeed in it completely, 
Lord Bacon seems to have thought to be more than can well be 
expected from human frailty."* If then we are responsible for 
our opinions, sentiments, feelings, and conduct ; if it is impor- 
tant for us to have the conscience unperverted, the reason undis- 
turbed, and the understanding unclouded ; — it is a high personal 
duty to guard ourselves against these classes and modifications of 
our feelings, and, as far as possible, to divest ourselves of their 
influence. 

But the subject admits of a more particular illustration. The 
old man is dissatisfied with every thing around him, seizes every 

* Philosophy of the Mind, Vol. I. p. 28. 
39 



306 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

occasion, like Nestor, to praise the times that are past, and insists 
that every thing has changed for the worse since he was a young 
man. It is all the effect of prejudice. Youth is a season of joy 
and delight, the sensibilities are active, the affections warm, the 
imagination buoyant and creative, all the powers of body and 
mind are fresh and elastic, want and anxiety have not begun to 
distress us, — and, more than all, hope sheds its bright illusions on 
our path, and gilds all our prospects with its rays. No wonder, 
then, that the reminiscences of youth are, as age advances, ex- 
tremely pleasant, and that the old man believes every thing has 
changed, since he was young, for the worse ; when, in truth, the 
essential change has been in himself. 

Again, we have prejudices in favor of our country, its institu- 
tions, and even its customs and fashions. A just attachment to 
our native country and its institutions is an important duty ; but 
this is quite different from a blind and bigoted attachment to every 
thing of native origin and growth, and is quite consistent with a 
liberal feeling and enlightened judgment respecting foreign coun- 
tries, their inhabitants, and their institutions. Such prejudices 
often do much mischief. They are seen in the feelings, opinions, 
and sentiments, which the English, French, Spaniards, Italians, 
and Germans mutually entertain for one another. The existence 
of such feelings cannot be denied, and their influence in perplex- 
ing our judgments of men and things is extensively felt. There 
is great diversity among nations in respect to fashions of dress, 
and forms of civility and polite intercourse ; and these are the sub- 
ject of many prejudices. Unless they encroach upon health, mor- 
als, religion, or something else involving considerations of moral 
duty, they are essentially a matter of indifference, and every wise 
man, wherever he is, will pay a suitable respect to them. They 
form no reason why one nation, or one age, should ridicule and 
despise another, or arrogate to itself any superiority over another. 
Custom and fashion have a rightful jurisdiction in things which 
nature has left indifferent ; but in every particular that can be de- 
nominated proper or improper, right or wrong, the principle of 
duty takes precedence of every other ; custom and fashion have 
little authority, and ought to have none.* 

* Karnes's Elements of Criticism, Chap. XIV, pp. 130, 131. 



Chap. VIL] GUARDING AGAINST PREJUDICES. 307 

Besides these, there are professional prejudices ; and what 
may be termed prejudices of authority. Men often adopt un- 
sound opinions, merely because they are proposed by writers of 
great celebrity. The writings of Aristotle had such authority 
in Europe, during many centuries, that nothing more was neces- 
sary to sustain any opinion or sentiment, than to cite them in its 
favor. There are, too, prejudices arising from personal friend- 
ship and dislike. But, of all the classes of prejudices which may 
blind and mislead us, none more require to be understood by 
every good man, that he may guard against their influence, than 
those which spring from sects and parties. There are parties in 
science, in politics, in religion, and on every other subject in- 
volving important interests. The spirit which animates all par- 
ties and all sects, although it differs much in intensity and viru- 
lence according to circumstances, is still essentially the same. 
It is not many centuries, since the controversies between the 
philosophical sects of the Realists and Nominalists ran so high, 
that the parties, after a public disputation of some days' continu- 
ance between their respective champions, drew themselves up in 
battle array, and an abstract metaphysical discussion was termi- 
nated by the use of fists, clubs, and swords, — by the killing of 
some and the wounding of many. The virulence of political 
prejudice and antipathy is too familiar to us all, to require more 
than a single illustration. " Political charity," says Gouverneur 
Morris, " is puss's velvet paw, soft so long as she purrs with 
pleasure ; but, let the meanest little mouse of an opposite party 
peep at the veriest paring of an office, away jumps the cat, her 
claws extended, her eyes flashing fire." * It is due to the sub- 
ject of religious party prejudice to say, that the bitterness, with 
which its controversies were once waged, has been greatly 
softened, as public opinion has become enlightened, as knowledge 
has advanced, and as the claims of toleration and Christian char- 
ity have been more generally understood and acknowledged. 
Most religious controversies are now conducted with a degree 
of moderation, decorum, and good temper, well becoming their 
sacred subject. 

* Life and Correspondence, by J. Sparks, Vol. III. p< 305. 



308 PERSONAL DUTIES. [Part IV. 

Probably most persons can recollect the history of prejudice 
in their own minds. They can remember, when their favorable 
opinions of men and things did not extend beyond their own 
neighbourhood, parish, or city. The distant parts of even their 
own State were believed to be far inferior, in all respects, to 
those in which they had their birth and education. The inhab- 
itants of other, and especially far distant States, were supposed 
to be far less moral, respectable, and estimable, than those of 
their own State. The inhabitants of all foreign countries were con- 
sidered little better than semi-barbarians. As they have advanced 
in life, however, and become more acquainted with men and 
things, these prejudices have gradually vanished, and upon actual 
acquaintance, the people of distant States, cities, and countries, 
have been found to be very much like those of the neighbourhood 
or city, which was the original scene of their observations and at- 
tachments. In like manner, the superiority which we claim for 
the times in which we live, over times long since gone by, is, 
in great part, founded in prejudice. 



PART FIFTH. 

A REVIEW OF THE CHIEF PROFESSIONS AND EM- 
PLOYMENTS OF LIFE, SO FAR AS REGARDS THE 
MORAL DUTIES WHICH THEY INVOLVE; THEIR 
MORAL PRINCIPLES, PRACTICES, INFLUENCES, 
AND TENDENCIES. 

The multifarious professions and employments of men all re- 
quire corresponding qualifications of body and mind. Like the 
various relations of life, each has its appropriate sphere of duty 
and usefulness ; each has its measure of responsibility ; each in- 
duces peculiar habits, ways of thinking, partialities, and even 
prejudices ; each has its well-known customs and practices ; each 
has its peculiar trials and temptations, as well as encourage- 
ments ; each is accompanied by peculiar tendencies and influences 
of a moral kind ; and all these, combined, give to men of every 
walk of life a peculiar cast of character. More than this, they 
fasten on almost every man certain peculiarities of person, and 
even of countenance.* 

To the various professions and employments, a well ascer- 
tained rank in general estimation is attached, which, somewhat 
modified either by the internal state of society, or by controlling 
external circumstances, has been much the same at all times, and 
in all countries where civilization has made any considerable ad- 
vancement. Cicero has touched this topic, though not with his 
usual fulness and exactness of knowledge. Still I shall avail 
myself of his observations so far as they are just, and, so far as 
they suit my object, I shall incorporate them with my own.f 

The employments of all those classes of hired persons are 
humble, and have nothing liberal in them, whose labor [opera) , 

* Alison on Taste, p. 375. t De Officiis, Lib. I. c. 42. 22. 



310 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

not whose skill (ars) , is purchased by their employers ; " be- 
cause," he says, "the very wages they receive are a badge of 
their servitude." Again, all those are unworthy employments, 
which procure a man general ill-will and hatred ; such, for in- 
stance, is the business of usurers, tax-collectors, officers of the 
customs, &c. Artisans of every class have but a mean sort of 
calling; and, he affirms, " there can be nothing liberal in a 
workshop." All those employments are still more mean and 
contemptible (minime probanda) , which are the handmaids of 
luxury and pleasure ; and, in this sentence, he passes judgment, 
among others, on the employments of perfumers, dancing-masters, 
and the manufacturers of cards and dice. But professions and 
employments, which require knowledge and skill for their suc- 
cessful practice, and those which are of great and acknowledged 
public usefulness, such as medicine, architecture, and the instruc- 
tion of youth in good learning, are commendable and honorable 
in those, he says, whose rank and condition in life such em- 
ployments befit. The profession of merchandise is sordid and 
mean, he thinks, where the trade that is driven, is small and in- 
considerable ; but is creditable enough, when it embraces a great 
amount of business, importing goods from every country, and 
selling them again without defrauding or deceiving ; with which, 
he alleges, the pursuit of merchandise, in the small way, is ex- 
ceedingly disgraced. He admits, however, that the profession of 
the merchant is very highly honorable and praiseworthy, where 
his design is, after having obtained a sufficiency of wealth, to 
spend the remainder of his life in the dignified retirement of the 
country. Of all pursuits, he considers agriculture the most 
pleasant, agreeable, and profitable, — as in all respects the best 
and most dignified of all human employments, and, therefore, the 
most worthy of a man of a liberal mind. Lawyers, orators, 
and statesmen held a very elevated rank at Rome, as they have 
always everywhere else. Rome was engaged in almost con- 
tinual wars, and the profession of a soldier was, therefore, a 
source of frequent and high distinction ; still Cicero gives the 
preference to the more eligible and honorable employments of 
civil and peaceful life. These views of the rank and dignity 
of the chief professions and employments of life are transcribed 



Chap. I.] PROFESSION OF THE LAW. 31 J 

from the Roman moralist, with very slight changes, and they 
were no more suited to the state of things at Rome, than they 
are to this country and to our times. 



CHAPTER I. 

A REVIEW OF THE PROFESSION OF THE LAW ; INCLUDING A 
MORAL ESTIMATE OF THE LEGAL PROFESSION, SO FAR AS 
IT NATURALLY COMES UNDER THE VIEW OF THE MORAL 
PHILOSOPHER. 

All the best authorities insist upon what might he concluded 
from the nature of the case, that good morals are indispensably 
requisite to the attainment of the highest order of excellence 
and success in the study and practice of the law. Sir James 
Mackintosh says, a Remember this is a maxim, which arises 
from the very character of the study, that he who is a great 
lawyer, must be a great and a good man." # Again, " There is 
a dignity of character, which it is of the utmost importance for 
every one in this profession to support. For it must never be 
forgotten, that there is no instrument of persuasion more pow- 
erful, than an opinion of probity and honor in the person who 
undertakes to persuade. It is scarcely possible for any hearer 
to separate altogether the impression made by the character of 
him who speaks, from the things which he says. However 
secretly and imperceptibly, it will be always lending its weight 
to one side or the other ; either detracting from, or adding to 
the authority and influence of his speech. This opinion of 
honor and probity must, therefore, be carefully preserved, both 
by some degree of delicacy in the choice of causes, and by the 
manner of conducting them."f Truth, honor, probity, and 
integrity are elements of character essential to the great lawyer. 

The integrity and honor to which I refer, are not confined to 
that common principle of honesty, by the influence of which, 
men are prevented from defrauding each other in the general 

* Study and Practice of the Law, p. 19. t Blair's Lectures, p. 273. 



312 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

intercourse of life ; they extend to that inward principle of rec- 
titude, which sets a man above those professional misrepresenta- 
tions, and which leads him to scorn those advantages, which are 
the choicest aliment of the crafty and the unprincipled. It is 
in vain to contend, that the nature of the calling demands a 
resort to artifice and cunning, and that, therefore, no man can 
succeed without them. If this were true, it ought to deter 
every man from entering into a profession, the principles of 
which were so contrary to every dictate of truth and honor. 
Cunning is the wisdom of the vulgar and the unprincipled ; its 
very essence is made up of meanness, concealment, and disguise. 
There is surely nothing in law itself, which naturally leads its 
professors to substitute cunning for wisdom. Far otherwise. 
" In contemplating law as a universal principle," says one of 
our own jurists, tc which all beings animate and inanimate obey, 
the mind is filled with the magnitude of the conception. Not only 
creatures, but the Creator himself acknowledges a rule of con- 
duct. Those spirits who surround his throne, and are swift to 
do his will, and all inferior orders of rational beings, whether in 
society or solitude, recognise the will of their creator as the law 
of their existence. In the revolution of the heavenly bodies, in 
the succession of seasons, and indeed throughout the whole 
course of nature, the footsteps of a Divine Lawgiver, are no 
less manifest than among the highest intelligent spirits." * Indeed 
it may be said with the utmost truth, that the general law of this 
country is a noble superstructure, raised upon trie everlasting 
foundation of truth and reason ; calculated by its beauty to excite 
the admiration, and by its strength to be the defence of the 
people. Whoever will look with an eye of understanding into 
our courts of justice, will behold the utmost that the combined 
labor and wisdom of man can perform ; he will find the property 
of his countrymen, however diversified, arranged into its simple 
parts, distributed according to its true nature, and secured to its 
rightful proprietor. He will perceive the anxiety of the ancient 
British lawgivers, whose labors have descended to us, and of 
our own legislatures and courts of justice, to adapt the laws to 

* The Hon. P . O. Thacher's Address before the Bar of Suffolk, Massachu- 
setts, 1831. p. 16. 



Chap. I.] PROFESSION OF THE LAW. 313 

every occasion which can arise to human foresight, or from the 
varying circumstances of human affairs. The aids which are 
afforded in equity to mitigate the severity, or assist the incompe- 
tency, of the common law, the systematic arrangement of the 
courts, and the liberty given to every man to appeal from the 
inferior to the superior courts, until at last he reaches the highest 
standard of authority and law, exhibit striking evidence of the 
excellence and dignity of our system of jurisprudence, which 
demand the reverential affection of every good man, and 
which ignorance and perverseness alone will deny. The natural 
tendency of the study of the law, therefore, must be to cherish 
honor, integrity, and elevated moral sentiments and feelings of 
every kind. 

Professional honor and integrity will forbid the advocate to 
engage in a business of notorious wrong. But here a very nice 
and curious distinction arises. Could the term wrong be ac- 
curately defined, there would, perhaps, be little difficulty ; but 
such a definition is no easy matter, where our interests or inclina- 
tions interfere. Still, two limitations have been laid down by 
the late Sir James Mackintosh, the propriety of which is 
very manifest. 

1. " That is a notorious wrong, when one man seeks, by a 
wresting of the law to his own purposes, to despoil another of 
his rightful property, or to obstruct his obtaining the possession 
of it ; and he who assists in the execution of any such plan, no 
matter under what pretence, incurs, if not an equal, at least 
some share of guilt with the original instigator of the wrong. 
This being the truth, the question next arises, What ought to be 
considered as despoiling, and what assisting ? With respect to 
the first, this rule may be laid down as worthy of particular 
observance, to wit, that, where it becomes necessary to pervert 
not the spirit only, but the terms of a written law, in order to 
support a cause, no lawyer of integrity will engage in such a 
business. This is a very plain case. As to the second part 
of the question, what may be called assisting ; I observe, that 
whoever is the voluntary instrument, by speaking or writing, of 
turning a law calculated to produce protection and benefit, to 
oppression and wrong, must clearly be an accessory ; nor will 

40 



314 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

the plea of professional necessity avail him, since that necessity 
cannot exist in an honorable profession." 

2. u Again, that is a notorious wrong whereby a law, clear and 
express in its correction of a public grievance, is sought to be 
weakened or evaded. If an offence against such a law be plain 
to the conscience and understanding of the advocate, can he, 
consistently Avith the dictates of integrity, rise up in court to de- 
fend the culprit ? There are few cases free from doubt ; and it 
may be readily conceded, that many causes are defended in a 
public court of justice, and necessarily so, by the advocate^ (as 
for instance when he is assigned the counsel for a party by the 
court,) which would be given up in the closet by the man. Of 
this all men must have been long since well convinced ; and they 
have agreed to justify it, and it may be justified upon these 
grounds, independently of the authority of the court, and of the 
nature of the lawyer's public engagements ; to wit, that there is 
right somewhere, and that there is, also, a greater or less proba- 
bility of its being on our side. But, in the case I have proposed, 
there can be no right existing, and integrity must, therefore, be 
violated by an attempt at defence." 

"It will be no good plea for the lawyer to urge," continues 
he, " that if he does not undertake a particular matter of busi- 
ness, another will ; for thus are the boldest transgressions, not 
only against conscience, but against the laws themselves, excus- 
ed. It will be more rational for him to call to mind, that not 
only his own honor, not only the feelings and property of others, 
but the laws and the community, may be affected. Nor am I 
laying down nice rules of a novel or abstract morality. Were I 
inclined to do this, my observations might be carried much fur- 
ther ; but they have been confined within a narrow compass, and 
to very plain cases. Whatever has regard to the spirit of the 
laws, I have entirely and purposely omitted, because that can be 
ascertained and settled only in those august tribunals, that are ap- 
pointed by the law. My wish is to impress upon the minds of 
my readers, a sense of the integrity and honor that do not con- 
sist in visionary speculation, but that are suited to the useful and 
important purposes of practical life." # 

* Study and Practice of the Law, p. 252 - 254. 



Chap. I.] PROFESSION OF THE LAW. 315 

Many qualities are requisite to success in the lawyer ; but no 
one is more so, than the spirit of honor and integrity on which I 
have insisted. All the knowledge of legal doctrines, whether 
theoretical or practical, all the habits of study, all the strength of 
a deep and penetrating judgment, must be blended with a mellow- 
ness of manners, to be acquired only in the school of life, and 
with a fertility of genius, which is the gift of nature alone. He 
must be able at once to influence the passions of a jury, and to 
convince the understanding of the judge ; he must appear in all 
the varied characters of the abstract reasoner and the lively wit, 
the accurate definer and the polished rhetorician. The dignity 
of wisdom and the facility of business, the nervousness of elo- 
quence and the easy familiarity of colloquy, must take their turns 
in the varieties of his practice. All that is excellent in general 
knowledge, and refined in legal intelligence, must be called in to 
complete the character of the finished advocate in our courts. 

The lawyer, then, to gain the summit of legal excellence, 
must unite the most opposite qualities, and be capable of exercis- 
ing them ; he must have a quick discernment, and yet a solid un- 
derstanding ; he must not be destitute of imagination, yet he must 
possess a sound judgment ; he must know books, yet be well 
learned in mankind ; the subtile technicalities of law, and the 
enlarged beauties of classical learning ; the solitary habits of study 
and the easy refinements of active life, must equally distinguish 
him. In fine, he must unite in himself all those noble and useful 
qualities, by which he may at once command the attention of the 
acute and the learned, and render himself intelligible to the most 
ordinary capacity. In the accomplished lawyer, this combination 
of rare qualities, must be crowned w T ith a corresponding sense of 
honor, probity, and integrity. 

A rare combination of qualities, then, physical, moral, social, 
and intellectual, is requisite to the accomplished lawyer, — the 
spirit of the law when unsophisticated, and its main tendency 
when unperverted, are, to elevate the moral character ; — still 
there are other tendencies, which, unless they are known and 
guarded against, will degrade the personal and professional char- 
acter of the lawyer. All lawyers are not men of elevated moral 
sentiments and feelings. Some lawyers may understand the prin- 



316 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

ciples of law well enough ; but they are wrapped up in the terms 
of art, and the technicalities of practice, and greatly neglect the 
life, spirit, and tendency of the law which they study and apply. 
To them, the law is nothing more than a dull piece of mechan- 
ism. It has no life, no elevation, no spirit, no principle of phi- 
losophy, no connexion with genius and liberal learning. A spirit 
of subtilty and finesse, too, in another class of lawyers, has often 
been alleged to disgrace the bar. Every honest advocate will be 
anxious to give as little occasion as possible to such an accusation. 
" He will recollect," says Sir James Mackintosh, " that those 
intricacies, which unavoidably obscure the legal science, have had 
their source in no honorable propensities of the human mind, and 
that he will, therefore, be doing a great wrong in adding to 
them."* There is no pride so unworthy of an enlightened 
mind, as that which delights itself with the needless intricacies of 
any science ; much less is it excusable in availing itself of the 
obscurity that enshrouds the law ; a science that ought to be most 
clear, and that will cease to be so, only in proportion as the sen- 
timents and manners of men degenerate from the standard of 
purity. The motives that induce this kind of pride are selfish 
and unjust ; since he must be selfish and unjust, who labors to 
obscure knowledge rather than to diffuse and explain it. 

The study and practice of the law, moreover, have been fre- 
quently charged with inducing narrowness and contractedness of 
mind. Sir James Mackintosh often admonishes the lawver of the 
importance of cherishing enlarged sentiments, and of aiming at 
expansion as well as strength of mind. And, without directly 
charging any part of the profession with narrowness of mind, he 
still says, u A little mind is obviously distinguished from a great 
mind by its continued association with cases of a trifling import, 
which, by imperceptible degrees, acquire an ascendency over it, 
and at length appear before it in a false light, and clothed with an 
unreal importance. Thus secured in their possession, they com- 
municate their debasing influence, and confine the faculties of the 
mind to a very limited sphere. This will appear in every senti- 
ment and in every action of the man who is thus enslaved ; and 

* Study and Practice of the Law. p. 249. 



Chap. I.] PROFESSION OF THE LAW. 317 

the only distinction that can possibly exist between this character, 
when seen only in private, and when exhibited in public life, is, 
that the latter will be more conspicuously degraded and unhappy. 
It must be considered, therefore, as a circumstance of peculiar 
infelicity, when a man, who has to sustain the character of an ad- 
vocate in the courts of justice of a free and enlightened country, 
and in an age, too, of great political and philosophical refinement, 
has permitted his ideas to range into no sphere beyond that in 
which he himself has moved ; when he has contemplated no situ- 
ations but those of his own confined circle, and investigated no 
system beyond the technicalities of business. From such cir- 
cumstances what unhappy consequences will not ensue ? Irreg- 
ular positions, unjust conclusions, uncertain notions of truth, and 
mutilated conceptions of justice, are evils of no inferior kind, 
and very closely follow so deplorable a state of mind." # 

Every profession has its unworthy members, — unworthy in 
respect to qualifications, character, general spirit, intentions, pur- 
poses, &c, and the law is not without them. The smallest 
temptation of interest, passion, or prejudice, suffices to induce 
them to pervert and frustrate justice, in every way known to the 
unscrupulous and the crafty. They are an instructive instance of 
the danger of literary and professional education, when not ac- 
companied and directed by moral principle. A resort to subtil- 
ty and finesse, and the use of technical terms and formalities, to 
obscure the law and obstruct justice, have brought no small share 
of public reproach on a profession, the great majority of whose 
members are men of elevated moral sentiments, and of exemplary 
character. All reproach uttered against entire classes of men is 
essentially unjust. This is true of lawyers as well as other class- 
es of men ; and the reproach, justly deserved by a small number, 
has extended itself, in a considerable measure, to the entire pro- 
fession. Sir James Mackintosh prefers high claims in their behalf, 
and congratulates his country u upon the general morality of its 
legal professors. It may be reckoned," continues he, " as one 
of its brightest honors, that there is not only a great accumulation 
of learning and talent at this moment in its courts of justice, but 

* Study and Practice of the Law, p. 221. 



318 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

also that they are crowded by men, who, whatever may be their 
opinions in other respects, possess the soundest principles of 
moral truth." * 

There is said to be a striking difference between the educa- 
tion and course of life of an American and an English lawyer, 
which would, it is affirmed, disqualify the latter from maintaining 
in our courts a successful contest with the former. In England, 
the complexity of the system, its antiquated, mysterious, and 
perplexing rules, with their endless exceptions ; its forced con- 
structions, and almost invisible distinctions, have a tendency to 
improve the lawyer at the expense of the man ; whilst, in this 
country, other and more exalting circumstances improve the man, 
though, perhaps, somewhat at the expense of the more technical 
practitioner. As soon as the American lawyer attains to high 
reputation, he is enticed into public life, when the contentions of 
politics, and the interests of States become the objects of his 
attention, to the enlargement of his intellectual powers. Instead 
of sinking down into the little lawyer, whose ideas are imprisoned 
within the bounds of a single branch of jurisprudence, and whose 
contracted intellect can, after a time, comprehend nothing that 
is not embraced in his digests, he looks abroad, he perceives 
something which he regards as better than mere technical learn- 
ing, and resolves to attain it ; he soars aloft ; and, though he may 
fall short of his high aim, he seldom fails to reach an elevation 
far beyond the fondest aspirations of any professional attendant 
in Westminster Hall. He, who, in Great Britain, devotes him- 
self to the profession, becomes acute, subtile, and learned in that 
department of the science which he may have selected, whilst in 
every thing else he is, with few exceptions, decidedly ignorant ; 
here, on the contrary, he becomes a man of business, an acute 
debater, a respectable legislator, as well as a general lawyer. In 
England, they complain that the law is a jealous mistress, de- 
priving of her favors all who remit their attentions, or who ad- 
dress them even incidentally to other objects. Polite letters are 
proscribed, the pernicious influence of poetry would blast their 

* Study and Practice of the Law, p. 245. 



Chap. I.] PROFESSION OF THE LAW. 319 

prospects for ever, and even history is to be shunned as warring 
against jurisprudence.* 

This is a strong view taken in behalf of American, compared 
with British lawyers ; but Mr. Justice Story, of the Supreme 
Court of the United States, anticipates a still higher character 
for future American lawyers, arising from the influence of our 
institutions. " The establishment of the National Government," 
says he, " and of Courts to exercise its constitutional jurisdic- 
tion, will, it is to be hoped, operate with a salutary influence. 
Dealing, as such courts must, in questions of a public nature ; 
such as concern the law of nations, and the general rights and 
duties of foreign nations ; such as respect the domestic relations 
of the States with each other, and with the general government ; 
such as treat of the great doctrines of prize and maritime law ; 
such as involve the discussion of grave constitutional powers and 
authorities ; it is natural to expect, that these Courts will attract 
the ambition of some of the ablest lawyers in the different 
States, with a view both to fame and fortune. And thus, per- 
haps, the foundations may be laid for a character of excellence 
and professional ability, more various and exalted than has hith- 
erto belonged to any bar under the auspices of the common law ; 
a character in which minute knowledge of local law will be com- 
bined with the most profound attainments in general jurispru- 
dence, and with that instructive eloquence, which never soars so 
high, or touches so potently, as when it grasps principles, which 
fix the destiny of nations, or strike down to the very roots of 
civil polity. f 

The advocate must guard against prostituting his talents and 
character on the side of notorious wrong, — he must not rashly 
expose himself to the imputation of being rendered blind to enor- 
mities by the desire of gain, — he must not involve himself, by 
haste and inadvertence, in transactions, without previous inquiry 
into the circumstances attending them, — he must not lay himself 
open to the suspicion of engaging in a cause from motives of 
personal pique and animosity to the adverse party, — without in- 

* See the substance of this paragraph in " The Southern Review," for May 
1829, Art. 7, ascribed to the Hon. Samuel Prioleau of South Carolina. 
t Address before the Suffolk Bar, in " Miscellaneous Writings," p. 426. 






320 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

dulging in such scruples as are unnecessary, he must fully satisfy 
all those which integrity and prudence may suggest ; — but, when 
he has once undertaken the cause of a client, it is his duty never 
to forget, that in undertaking it, he makes it his own, and that it 
is entitled to the same attention and earnest interest, which he 
gives to his own business. This feeling imparts a glow and a 
fervor to every look, gesture, and action ; and these, of them- 
selves, do much to advance every cause in which they are en- 
listed. Men are satisfied and gratified, when they find their 
business thus warmly undertaken. When they perceive, that 
every thing, which they themselves can think of, is said and done 
for them, they are led insensibly into the belief, that their advo- 
cate perceives and is affected by the justice of their cause. 

Every client is entitled to expect, that he who undertakes his 
business will bring such a disposition to his aid ; without which, 
indeed, he cannot well acquit himself of the full measure of his 
duty. It incites a feeling of sincerity towards the interest of the 
client, which will not permit any indifference or neglect in his 
concerns. It will not attempt to avail itself of the excuse that 
the business was of little importance ;< — that is ever of impor- 
tance upon which the interest and peace of a man depend. Be- 
sides, who is to be the judge of the importance of any business ? 
Men are seldom inclined to enter, as litigants, into a court of 
justice, who do not conceive themselves to have been seriously 
injured ; and, when once they have thus determined, and the ad- 
vocate has accepted their cause from their hands, he pledges 
himself, in every sense of the term, to act for them as they them- 
selves would act. He, therefore, who undertakes a cause which 
he is not resolved to support to the utmost of his power, does 
a thing inconsistent with his duty. When the chastened elo- 
quence of the advocate is animated by the fervor of the client, 
every sentiment of justice and every faculty of the attention are 
called forth. In the energy that is thus produced, there is a 
most wonderful power ; it is seen in every department in which 
it is exercised, from the insignificance of ordinary conversation, 
up to the most important public discussion. The moment we 
see a man energetic, we are induced to think that he believes 
himself in the right, and that he is interested in what he says. 



Chap. I.] PROFESSION OF THE LAW. 321 

This frequently has a most happy consequence in forensic pro- 
ceedings. We shall not often succeed in our attempts to inter- 
est others, in that about which we ourselves appear to take but a 
small concern.* 

The duty of giving honest advice, and of taking pains, by 
sufficient reflection, by reading, and, if difficulties occur, by con- 
sulting other professional men, to render that advice sound and cor- 
rect, attaches to the lawyer as much when the matter in question 
is of a private nature, as when it is to be brought by him before 
a court of justice. And the injury arising to those who apply 
to him, from his want of integrity or of attention, may prove as 
great in the former case, as in the latter. Moreover, an honest 
advocate will not prefer a particular way of proceeding, from 
views of personal emolument, to another more eligible for his 
client ; and, if two ways appear equally conducive to ultimate 
success, he will pursue that which promises to be the least irri- 
tating, dilatory, and expensive, both to his client and to the op- 
posite party, f 

The judicial character is naturally the perfection of the 
character formed under the influence of the study and practice 
of the law ; since those lawyers, who have most distinguished 
themselves at the bar, are habitually raised to the bench. The 
severe training of the bar is a necessary preparation for the 
bench. To the judges, our fortunes, characters, liberties, and 
lives are, in the last resort, committed ; — their talents are to 
illustrate the law, their virtues are to adorn the bench, and their 
judgments are to establish the rights, and secure the interests, of 
the citizens. Full and exact knowledge of the law, patient at- 
tention during the trial, candor, impartiality, kindness to the bar, 
deference to the other members of the court and urbanity to all, 
dignity of deportment, genius which commands respect and 
learning which justifies confidence ; above all, incorruptible in- 
tegrity, are the main qualifications requisite to the successful 
administration of justice.^ 



* Sir James Mackintosh's Study and Practice of the Law, p. 250. 
t Gisborne's Inquiry into the Duties of Men, &c, Vol. I. pp. 369, 370. 
X Story's Discourse on the Life, Character, and Services of Chief Justice 
Marshall, p. 67. 

41 



322 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

He whose duty it is to administer justice, is bound to add 
the sanction of a good life ; — but, besides this, various occa- 
sions will occur, which will enable the judge to advance and 
strengthen the cause of good morals, and of which he ought to 
avail himself. When a prisoner, for instance, is to be sentenced 
for a capital crime, an opportunity frequently presents itself, of 
making a deep and salutary impression on the mind both of the 
unhappy victim, and of all who are witnesses of his condemna- 
tion. A wise and conscientious judge will not neglect so fa- 
vorable an occasion of inculcating the enormity of vice and its 
fatal consequences. He will not neglect, too, to direct the 
attention of his audience to those views of the nature and con- 
sequences of transgression which are implied and disclosed in 
the solemn denunciations of the Gospel. Nor will he manifest 
indifference to the criminal himself ; but, dispensing justice in 
mercy, he will grant him all the indulgences and alleviations of 
his situation, which may be consistent with his duty. In cases 
of acquittal, also, a judicious and pertinent address from the 
judge to the person acquitted, may sometimes guard him, if 
innocent, against those indiscretions and connexions, which might 
ultimately have led him into crimes ; — if guilty, against sub- 
jecting himself, in future, to the risk of the punishment which 
he has now chanced to escape. * 

Moreover, it may be said with great truth, that the courts 
both in England and in this country, especially the higher 
courts, have been eminently distinguished for the best qualities 
that adorn the judicial character. Of the English courts, Chan- 
cellor Kent says, — " The judicial tribunals have been almost 
uniformly distinguished for their immaculate purity. Every per- 
son, well acquainted with the contents of the English Reports, 
must have been struck with the unbending integrity and lofty 
morals, with which the courts were inspired. I do not know," 
continues he, " where we could resort, among all the volumes 
of human composition, to find more constant, more tranquil, 
and more sublime manifestations of the intrepidity of conscious 
rectitude. If we were to go back to the iron times of the 
Tudors, and follow judicial history down, we should find the 

* Gisborhe's Inquiry, &c., Vol. I. p. 395-408. 



Chap. II] PROFESSION OF MEDICINE, 323 

higher courts of civil judicature, generally, and with rare excep- 
tions, presenting the image of the sanctity of a temple, where 
truth and justice seem to be enthroned, and to be personified 
in their decrees."* "Perhaps," says a writer, well entitled to 
be heard on this subject, " the perfection of the judicial charac- 
ter consists in the exhibition of pure intellect, divested of human 
sympathy. And yet, who would choose for his judge such a 
monster of perfection ? He is the truly great lawyer, who 
understands the law and the reason of it, and has the talent 
to apply it to all the occasions of the profession, whether at the 
bar or on the bench. He is the fortunate judge, who can so 
conduct himself on the seat of justice, and clothe his decisions 
in such language, that both he who wins and he who loses his 
cause, can unite in paying a deserved tribute to his wisdom and 
integrity." f 



CHAPTER II. 

THE MORAL INFLUENCE AND TENDENCY OF THE STUDY AND 
PRACTICE OF MEDICINE AND SURGERY, WITH THE DUTIES OF 
A PHYSICIAN TO HIS PATIENTS, TO THE FAMILIES INTO WHICH 
HE IS ADMITTED, TO OTHER PHYSICIANS, AND TO SOCIETY IN 
GENERAL. 

Dr. Benjamin Rush has carefully inquired into the virtues 
and failings peculiar to physicians, with a view to an estimate of 
the moral character of the profession, of which he was one of 
the most distinguished ornaments, which this or any other coun- 
try has produced. He has also extensively reviewed the lives 
of physicians ancient and modern, in order to bring to light 

* Commentaries on American Law, Vol. I. p. 463. 

i The Hon. P. O. Thacher's Address before the Bar of Suffolk, p. 28. — 
It will be perceived, that, in writing this chapter, the author has freely 
availed himself of the materials contained in " The Study and Practice of the 
Law," ascribed to the late Sir James Mackintosh. The high moral and pro- 
fessional character and profound acquirements of this celebrated jurist and 
statesman cannot fail to give a value to this chapter, which could not have 
been given to it by the author's unassisted labors. 



324 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part ¥. 

their merits, and to vindicate them from the aspersions and re- 
proach, which have sometimes been cast upon them. 

Besides their general usefulness in the way of their profes- 
sion, he finds many of them to have been shining examples of 
the domestic virtues, patrons of the arts, sciences, literature, and 
learned men, the friends of rational freedom, and the promoters 
of agriculture, commerce, and manufactures. He enumerates 
among them a great many who were eminently candid, ac- 
knowledging their mistakes without disguise ; generous, aiding 
with their wealth every enterprise of good ; patriotic, laboring 
in every way for the good of their country. Generals Warren 
and Mercer, continues he, were both physicians ; they both left 
a profitable and extensive business, when they led their country- 
men into the field, and fell in defence of the liberties of their 
country. He mentions the modern names of Boerhaave, Syden- 
ham, Stahl, Haller, Hartley, RadclirT, Black, Hunter, Fothergill, 
&c. ; — not only so, he calls up Hippocrates and Galen to do 
honor to the profession at this late day. 

From this inductive review of medical history and biography, 
he concludes, 1. That the vices (defects) of physicians are fewer 
in number, and of less magnitude than their virtues. 2. That 
the profession of medicine favors the practice of all the re- 
ligious, moral, and social duties. 3. That the aggregate mass 
of physical misery, that has existed in the world, owes more of 
its relief to physicians than to any other body of men. * 

Among other defects imputed to physicians, and ascribed to 
the influence and tendency of the study and practice of medi- 
cine and surgery, want of sympathy for distress has been urged 
as often as any other. Physicians in general, have often been 
supposed to be almost destitute of feeling, and almost regardless 
of human suffering. It has, too, been frequently alleged by 
persons of the most respectable standing in society, and obser- 
vation and experience have been confidently appealed to, to 
sustain the allegation, that the manifest effect, as well as tendency, 
of the study and practice of medicine and surgery is, to harden 
the temper and feelings, and even a to brutalize the entire 
character." This may be presumed to be true of some part 

* Introductory Lectures, pp. 120- 140. 



Chap. II.] PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 325 

of the profession, — of those who habitually stifle, instead of 
cherishing sympathetic feeling ; and it is what every physician 
should anxiously guard against ; but there does not seem to be 
any good reason for imputing this defect to physicians generally. 
Familiar as they are, and must be, with scenes of affliction of 
every name, it is impossible for them to shed tears on every 
occasion when they meet with pain and distress. The deep 
and poignant sorrow felt by near relations in the afflictions of 
one another, it is impossible for any physician to feel ; — nay, if 
he could feel in the same way and degree, such feeling would 
overwhelm him and unfit him for his duty. It is the highest 
duty of the physician to take a strong interest in whatever con- 
cerns the cure of his patient ; and this strong interest will natu- 
rally show itself in a corresponding sympathy with his feelings 
and destiny, and with all those who feel a strong interest in him. 

It has been very frequently said, that the study and practice of 
medicine tend to originate and nourish infidel feelings and senti- 
ments. Dr. Rush seems to admit, that there may be some truth 
in this general impression ; and he ascribes it to that neglect of 
public worship, in which many physicians live, occasioned, per- 
haps, by the excuse which they readily find in the nature of their 
employment, which does not permit them entirely to suspend 
their ordinary labors on Sunday, like other classes of men. This 
confirms the sentiment commonly entertained among Christians, 
that, without a strict observance of Sunday, the cause of religion 
will inevitably decline. Dr. Rush laments, that men whose edu- 
cation necessarily opens to them the wisdom and goodness of the 
Creator, and whose duties lead them constantly to behold his 
power over human life and all its comforts, should be so willing 
to forget him. 

He reminds physicians of the importance of making themselves 
acquainted with the arguments on which Christianity is founded, 
and of the numerous and powerful motives which enforce a belief 
of it. He says further, " It is in places of public worship, that 
these arguments and motives are delivered to the most advantage ; 
and it is by neglecting to hear them, that the natural propensity of 
the human heart to infidelity, is cherished and promoted." At 
the same time he insists, that " this vice of the understanding," 



326 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

as he calls it, has no natural alliance with the practice of physic ; 
because to no secular profession does the Christian religion af- 
ford more aid, than to medicine. The business of physicians 
leads them daily into the abodes of pain and affliction. It obliges 
them frequently to witness the fears with which their patients 
leave the world, and the anguish of their surviving relatives. 
Here the resources of their art fail them, but the comfortable 
views of the Divine government, and of a future state unfolded in 
the Gospel, come in and more than supply their place. A pious 
observation, dropped from the lips of a physician in such circum- 
stances of his patients, often does more good, than a long and, 
perhaps, ingenious discourse from another person, inasmuch as it 
falls upon the heart at the moment of its deepest depression from 
grief. * 

Aside, therefore, from the temptation to neglect a suitable ob- 
servance of Sunday, arising from the impossibility of suspending 
their professional labors entirely on that day, the influence of 
the study and practice of medicine does not seem to be unfavor- 
able to sound religious feeling and sentiment. In truth, the his- 
tory of medicine makes it manifest, that in every case of infideli- 
ty, it is the fault of the individual, and not the tendency of the 
profession. Many of the first physicians in ancient and modern 
times have been pious men. Hippocrates did homage to the gods 
of his country, and Galen vanquished atheism, for a time, in 
Rome, by proving the existence of a Creator from the curious 
structure of the human body. Cheselden, the celebrated En- 
glish anatomist, always implored, in the presence of his pupils, 
the aid and blessing of Heaven upon his hand, whenever he took 
hold of an instrument to perform a surgical operation. Syden- 
ham, the great luminary and reformer of medicine, was a religious 
man. Boerhaave spent an hour, every morning, in his closet, 
in reading the Scriptures, before he entered upon the duties of 
his profession. Dr. Haller has left behind him an eloquent de- 
fence of Christianity, in a series of letters to his daughter. Dr. 
Fothergill's long life was filled up with acts of good-will to men, 
and of gratitude and piety to God. Dr. Hartley, whose works 

* Introductory Lectures, p. 121. 



Chap. II.] PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 327 

will perish only with time itself, was a pious Christian. Of these 
celebrated physicians, Dr. Rush remarks, that " the weight of 
their names alone, in favor of revelation, is sufficient to turn the 
scale against all the infidelity that has ever dishonored the science 
of medicine." # 

It often becomes the painful duty of the physician to satisfy 
himself on reasonable grounds, whether he ought to withhold, or 
make his patient acquainted with, his opinion of the probable issue 
of a malady manifesting mortal symptoms. " I own," says Sir 
Henry Halford, " I think it my first duty to protract his life by 
all practicable means, and to interpose myself between him and 
every thing which may possibly aggravate his danger. And, un- 
less I shall have found him averse from doing what was necessary 
in aid of my remedies, from a want of a proper sense of his peril- 
ous situation, I forbear to step out of the bounds of my province, 
in order to offer any advice which is not necessary to promote 
his cure. At the same time, I think it indispensable to let his 
friends know the danger of his case, the instant I discover it. 
An arrangement of his worldly affairs, in which the comfort or 
unhappiness of those who are to come after him is involved, may 
be necessary ; and a suggestion of his danger, by which the ac- 
complishment of this object is to be obtained, naturally induces a 
contemplation of his more important spiritual concerns, a careful 
review of his past life, and such sincere sorrow and contrition for 
what he has done amiss, as justifies our humble hope of his par- 
don and acceptance hereafter. If friends can do their good 
offices at a proper time, and under the suggestions of the physi- 
cian, it is far better that they should undertake them than the 
medical adviser. They do so," continues he, " without destroy- 
ing his hopes, for the patient will still believe, that he has an ap- 
peal to his physican beyond their fears ; whereas, if the physician 
lay open his danger to him, however delicately he may do this, he 
runs a risk of appearing to pronounce a sentence of condemnation 
to death, against which there is no appeal, no hope ; and, on that 
account, what is most awful to think of, perhaps, the sick man's 
repentance may be less available. But friends may be absent, 

* Introductory Lectures, p. 129. 



328 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

and no one near the patient in his extremity, of sufficient influ- 
ence or pretension to inform him of his dangerous condition. 

" And surely," he further says, "it is lamentable to think, that 
any human being should leave the world unprepared to meet his 
Creator and Judge, with all his crimes unrepented of. Rather 
than so, I have departed from my strict professional duty, done 
that which I would have done by myself, and apprized my patient 
of the great change he was about to undergo. Of the great 
number to whom it has been my painful professional duty to have 
administered in the last hours of their lives, I have sometimes felt 
surprised, that so few have appeared reluctant to go to c the 
undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns.' 
I have seen those who have arrived at a fearless contemplation of 
the future, from faith in the doctrine which our religion teaches. 
Such men were not only calm and supported, but even cheerful 
in the hour of death ; and I never quitted such a sick chamber 
without a wish that my last end might be like theirs." # 

The relation in which a physician stands to his patient, and 
to the families into which he is called, is highly confidential in 
many respects, and an obligation of the most sacred nature rests 
upon him, not to abuse this confidence. He is looked upon as 
a confidential adviser and friend, and, as such, is admitted at all 
hours into the bosom of the families he attends, and to their 
most private apartments. He often becomes acquainted with 
the personal infirmities and disabilities of his patients, which 
are of the most humiliating kind. In respect to the ladies of a 
family, he is often placed in a situation of the utmost delicacy. 
Domestic secrets and occurrences of great delicacy and im- 
portance may sometimes come to his knowledge, in the unre- 
served and confidential intercourse which must and ought to 
subsist between the physician and his patients. He is morally 
unfit for his profession, if he is not keenly alive to the obligations 
of secrecy imposed on him by his being made the depositary of 
the confidence of the families into which he is admitted ; and 
he grossly and inexcusably betrays his trust by the smallest dis- 
closure of any thing of a delicate or private nature which comes 
to his knowledge in the way of his profession. 

* Essays, &c, read at the Royal College of Physicians, 1832 ; p. 79. 



Chap. II.] PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 329 

Every profession and every employment is, and ought to be, 
exposed to full and free competition. Competition is the spring 
of every kind of excellence ; but there are some circumstances 
in the actual practice of medicine which tend to render rival- 
ship among physicians more keen and bitter, than between the 
members of almost any other liberal profession or branch of 
business. The competition between lawyers for success is 
almost entirely in open court ; public opinion permits it, nay 
requires it to be keen, strenuous, and energetic ; but all mean 
and unworthy artifices, subjected as they must be to public ob- 
servation, do not fail, whenever practised, to recoil on the head 
of him who ventures to resort to them. Not so, however, with 
physicians. They go continually from house to house, they 
spend much of their time in private intercourse with their pa- 
tients and the families to which they pay their daily visits ; the 
chief scene of their labors is in private ; they are little exposed 
to public observation ; and therefore, the preventive and correc- 
tive power of public opinion cannot be brought to bear often or 
much upon them. They are constantly exposed to the tempta- 
tion of sacrificing moral principle to the motive and prospect of 
obtaining wealth and honor by the sacrifice. Hence, as might 
be expected in a large body of men, the moral principles of too 
many physicians, so far as respects their treatment of their 
brethren, do not prove strong enough to withstand the tempta- 
tion. This is one of the very cases noticed and condemned 
by Cicero, where the moral delinquency seems not to be very 
flagrant, and the prospect of advantage is very great.* 

To undermine a successful competitor in the same city or 
neighbourhood, by evil surmises or secret misrepresentations, 
by publishing or artfully aggravating his mistakes, by depreciating 
the estimation in which he is held, or by ridiculing his person, 
character, and habits ; to endeavour to retain exclusive posses- 
sion of the district in which one is employed, by crushing young 
physicians, who, at their outset in life, may attempt to establish 
themselves within its limits ; to harbour feelings of jealousy, 
envy, and hatred towards a fortunate competitor when he is called 
in by one's former patients, or towards one's former patients them- 

* De Officiis, Lib. III. c. 20. 
42 



330 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

selves, in consequence of their exercising their unquestionable 
right of calling in another physician ; to triumph insultingly over 
other physicians to whom one is himself preferred ; to refuse, by 
reason of private pique, previous misunderstanding, or other 
personal motives, to meet in consultation with any physician for 
whose advice the patient or his friends may be anxious ; to 
oppose the admission of other physicians to a joint share with 
one's self in the superintendence of hospitals and other like insti- 
tutions ; to censure unnecessarily the proceedings, and expose 
the defects, of one's brethren, when summoned to take charge of a 
case which has previously been in other hands ; to attempt to 
introduce to public confidence physicians of small qualifications, 
because they happen to be one's relatives or countrymen, or to 
have been educated at the same school or college with one's self ; 
to entertain absurd prejudices against any of one's brethren, in 
consequence of having an unfavorable opinion of the university 
from which they received their degrees, or because they have 
not been fortunate enough to receive a degree from any institu- 
tion, when they give proof of actually possessing those attain- 
ments, of which an academical education is considered as the 
basis, and a degree as presumptive evidence ; — all these prac- 
tices, and many more, are alleged to be extensively known among 
physicians, contrary to their mutual duty to each other, reproach- 
ful to their profession, and unworthy of the superior education 
and standing in society which they enjoy. 

In one respect, the physician is invested with a weight of 
moral influence almost unknown to any other profession, which 
enables him to be useful to society. The effect of all vice, of 
whatever kind, is to impair health, destroy character, undermine 
life, and cause premature death. This is known and acknowl- 
edged by all in general terms. But on this subject, the opinion 
of physicians has peculiar weight. They impart the lessons of 
actual experience, and, in illustration of them, they can generally 
refer to facts within their own knowledge. And it must be 
acknowledged to their praise, that they have seldom, if ever, 
been wanting in the discharge of the high moral duty to society, 
which their superior knowledge and experience in this respect 
so well qualifies them to perform. When, for instance, in the 



Chap. III.] THE CLERICAL PROFESSION. 331 

early stages of the temperance reformation, physicians were 
called upon to say, whether spirituous liquors were, in any case, 
beneficial to persons in health, even to the laboring classes of 
the community, they responded promptly and decidedly in the 
negative ; and this reformation, as far as it has advanced, has 
been accomplished, in no small measure, by the genera], zealous, 
and persevering support which they have given it. 



CHAPTER III. 

MORAL INFLUENCE OF THE CLERGY ON SOCIETY, INCLUDING 
AN ESTIMATE OF THE CLERICAL CHARACTER. 

The chief points of morals peculiar to Christianity ; its bring- 
ing life and immortality to light, and thereby giving an effectual 
sanction to morals by furnishing assurances of the reality of a 
future existence ; its expansive benevolence, acknowledging only 
the limits of the earth as the rightful sphere of its influence ; 
its undertaking to regulate the prime sources of human action and 
character, the thoughts ; its disregard to mere profession, unac- 
companied by active virtue ; and its general reforming, purifying, 
and elevating influence, have been reviewed and illustrated ; and 
even the difficult enterprise of portraying the moral character of 
the Saviour has been attempted, — with what success my readers 
much judge each for himself.* The lives and conversation of 
the clergy are the natural exemplification of the religion which 
they preach, " the bodying forth" to mankind the peculiar 
morals of Christianity. Whatever may be the spirit of its mor- 
als, it is natural to expect to see this exemplified in the clergy. 
" By their fruits we are to know" all men, especially the clergy. 

Nor, when subjected to this reasonable test, will the Christian 
clergy, as a body of men, be found wanting. Unworthy mem- 
bers there are, and always have been ; but the lives and character 
of the great body of the clergy have not been unworthy of the 

* See above , pp. 43 - 60. 



332 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

religion which they preach. Indiscriminate censure, however, 
and indiscriminate praise are alike foreign to my habits and my 
principles ; and the fairest estimate of the moral character and 
beneficial influence of the clergy on society may be made, by 
reviewing their conduct in the light of history, and under several 
particulars. 

1. Their labors, dangers, sufferings, and privations, in the 
original planting and building up of Christianity in every country 
in which its blessings are now enjoyed. The effectual establish- 
ment of Christianity in the world exhibits a scene of labors and 
trials, to which history presents no parallel. Frequent, earnest, 
and laborious preaching, constant conversing with persons upon 
religion, a withdrawing from the usual pleasures, engagements, 
and varieties of life, and an exclusive devotion to their one 
object, composed the habits of the Apostles and other early 
preachers of the Gospel. This kind of life, however, was not, 
in their view, privation, much less was it suffering ; it was their 
daily bread to do the will of their Master, and to finish the work 
to which he had appointed them. But the preaching of the new 
religion was attended with a difficulty and danger, which we shall 
in vain attempt to estimate without a minute acquaintance with 
the history of those times. When addressed to the Jews, it 
was a system adverse, not only to their confirmed opinions, but 
to those convictions upon which their hopes, their partialities, 
their pride, and their consolation were founded. They saw, in 
the success of Christianity, the overthrow of the Mosaic code, 
which was the ancient object of their reverence, and contained alike 
their religion, their government, and the basis of their national 
history ; the destruction of the ancient honors and privileges, 
which had been hitherto withheld from other nations, and which 
they had been accustomed to make their boast ; and the blasting 
of all their high hopes and expectations of a Messiah, who, ac- 
cording to a long-cherished persuasion, was to exalt their nation 
to a supremacy over all the nations of the earth. 

Nor, when the early preachers of Christianity turned them- 
selves from the Jews to the heathen public, did they meet with 
prejudices less determined, labors less arduous, dangers less ter- 
rific, or sufferings less appalling. The religion which they 



Chap. III.] THE CLERICAL PROFESSION. 333 

preached was exclusive in its claims ; it held no compromise with 
any other religion ; but denied, without fear and without reserve, 
the truth of every article of the heathen mythology, and the exist- 
ence of every object of heathen worship. If it prevailed, it was 
to prevail by the overthrow of every statue, altar, and temple 
on earth. It pronounced all gods to be false, and all worship to 
be vain, but its own. 

The danger, too, of the Christian preachers proceeded not 
merely from solemn acts and public resolutions of the State, but 
from sudden bursts of violence at particular places, from the li- 
cense of the populace, the rashness of some magistrates, and the 
negligence of others ; from the influence and instigation of inter- 
ested adversaries, and, in general, from the violence and excite- 
ment which a mission so novel and extraordinary could not fail of 
producing. They were a set of friendless, unprotected travellers, 
telling men, wherever they came, that the religion of their ances- 
tors, the religion in which they had been brought up, the religion 
of the State and of the magistrate, the rites which they fre- 
quented, the pomp which they admired, were, throughout, a 
system of folly and delusion. One of their number has de- 
scribed the kind of life which they led, and the treatment with 
which they were accustomed to meet, both from the Jews and 
the heathen. " Of the Jews," says he, " five times received 
I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, 
once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a 
day have I been in the deep ; — in journeyings often, in perils of 
waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, 
in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the 
wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren ; 
in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and 
thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness." * This statement 
of St. Paul was doubtless true of the other preachers as well 
as of himself, and is confirmed by all the original documents 
which exist on the subject, both heathen and Christian.! 

These sufferings , moreover, it must be remembered, were 

* 2 Corinth, xi. 24 - 27. 

t Acts v. 17, 18; vii. 59; xxi. 30-34,&c. See, also, Tacitus, Suetonius, 
Pliny. &c. — Paley's Evidences of Christianity, pp. 10-17. 



334 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

only preliminary; — the sufferings of the Christian preachers were 
infinitely more cruel and afflictive, as well as more general, 
during the celebrated ten persecutions under the Roman empe- 
rors, in which those powerful despots sought, by all the means at 
their command, to eradicate every vestige of Christianity from the 
earth. It was thus, chiefly and preeminently by the labors, pri- 
vations, and sufferings of the clergy, that the cause of Christianity, 
aided from on high, gradually made its way, until it was effect- 
ually established and recognised as the religion of the empire. 

In like manner, in whatever country Christianity has been 
made known, its establishment has been, for the most part, ac- 
complished by the labors and sacrifices of the clergy. " The 
missionaries who first introduced Christianity into Great Britain," 
says Southey, " were the prime spirits of the age, steady in 
purpose, wise in contrivance, and trained in the most perfect 
school of discipline. They were men of the loftiest minds, and 
ennobled by the highest and holiest motives ; their sole object in 
life was to increase the number of the blessed, and extend the 
kingdom of their Saviour, by communicating to their fellow- 
creatures the appointed means of salvation ; and, elevated as 
they were above all worldly hopes and fears, they were ready to 
lay down their lives in the performance of this duty, sure, by that 
sacrifice, of obtaining crowns in heaven, and altars upon earth, as 
their reward." # Still further illustrations of this position might 
be drawn from many sources ; — the history of our own country 
is rich in them. Christianity came into this country as a part of 
its original colonization, and Christian preachers, in almost every 
instance, made a part of the original colonists. New settlements 
on a distant and unknown shore, must, in the best circumstances, 
be subjected to many and great hardships ; — of these they cheer- 
fully underwent their full share, and their disinterestedness and 
usefulness are fully attested by the early documents of our his- 
tory. To refer to a single instance among multitudes. Besides 
exercising his clerical functions with singular zeal and success, 
the clergyman who accompanied the first colonists to Virginia, 
was twice instrumental in saving the colony from destruction ; 

* Book of the Church, Vol. I. p. 56. 



Chap. III.] THE CLERICAL PROFESSION. 335 

once by healing dissensions between its rival governors ; and 
again, by rendering an Indian massacre partial in its effects, 
which must, but for him, have involved every man, woman, and 
child, indiscriminately. Nothing but my very confined limits, 
prevents me from enlarging on this part of the subject.* Chris- 
tianity is the basis of all our most valuable institutions, moral, 
political, and social ; it gives tone, temper, and character to 
them all ; and its introduction into every country which enjoys 
its manifold blessings, is preeminently the work of the Christian 
clergy. 

2. Their labors and success in promoting education, literature, 
and science, in establishing institutions of learning, and other in- 
stitutions which have meliorated the condition of mankind. 

Our materials for the history of education are scanty, and no 
historian has yet employed himself much in collecting such as 
exist. In Greece, not more than a tenth part of the inhabitants 
were freemen, f and, of these, only a small part seem to have re- 
ceived any literary education. The very phrase used by Taci- 
tus (liter arum secreta) to express literary education, shows that 
it was generally looked upon as an abstruse art, shrouded in mys- 
tery, not to be attained and understood by the common peo- 
ple. \ In truth, the plan of educating the common people of any 
country does not seem to have occurred to any one as possible, 
until Christianity was established and had attained considerable 
strength; and the credit of originating such a plan, and of reducing 
it to practice, is due to the Christian clergy. Instruction was very 
early given at the monasteries and the churches, more especially 
at the cathedrals. In England, King Henry the Sixth, by peti- 
tion of many of the clergy, established grammar schools in vari- 
ous parishes, and this number was greatly enlarged a few years 
after, on the recommendation of the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
The great foundations of Winchester (A. D. 1382), and of St. 
Paul's School (A. D. 1508), were established by clergymen; 
and those of Eton (A. D. 1446), Christ Church (A. D. 1553), 
and Westminster (A. D. 1559), by royal munificence ; but they 

* Hawks's History of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Virginia, pp. 42, 43. 
t Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. I. p. 218. 
X De Moribus Germanorum, c. 19. 



336 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

seem to have been designed for the middle and higher orders^ 
and to have given no direct aid to the humblest class of society. 
It is well known, too, that very many of the colleges at Oxford 
and Cambridge were founded by clergymen. 

After the Reformation, the clergyman of every parish (in En- 
gland), in the capacity of a catechist, was required to be the in- 
structor of the poor and laboring classes in all things necessary 
for the great purposes of life. According to primitive usage, too, 
the sponsors of children were accustomed to give considerable 
aid in this way. All curates were to instruct and examine chil- 
dren on Sundays and other holidays, publicly in the church, and 
the afternoon seems to have been devoted to this object.* All 
parents and masters were to bring their children, servants, and 
apprentices, to be instructed by the clergyman at the church. 
This plan, though less effectual than had been hoped, still did 
much good ; but it was not until the year 1693, that a school for 
the laboring classes was founded in England. This was a charity 
school, and was opened at Westminster, in the year just named. 
The time, however, was now come, when " a constellation of 
noble designs " brightened the prospects of the religious world ; 
and the forming of societies for advancing religion, for the refor- 
mation of morals, for promoting Christian knowledge, for propa- 
gating the Gospel in u Foreign Parts," for establishing parochial 
libraries, and for the increase of the livings of the poorer clergy, 
all about the year 1700, gave a lustre to a few short years, the 
beneficial influence of which is still felt over the Christian world. 
The names of the Hon. Robert Boyle, the Rev. Dr. Thomas 
Bray, Robert Nelson, Dean Humphrey Prideaux, and Bishop 
White Kennet, are intimately connected with these noble under- 
takings. 

Equally disinterested, persevering, and successful, have been 
the efforts of the clergy in establishing schools, colleges, and uni- 
versities in this country, from its first settlement. In fact, much 
the larger number of our colleges and universities have been 
established directly or indirectly by the clergy, their chief offices 
have generally been filled by them, and the best conducted and 

* Hawks's History of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in Virginia, p. 26. 



Chap. III.] THE CLERICAL PROFESSION. 337 

most flourishing of them, have been entirely or substantially under 
clerical direction and influence.* 

3. Besides the arduous labors and sufferings of the clergy in 
planting and building up Christianity, in every country which has 
enjoyed its manifold blessings, and their zeal, perseverance, and 
success in raising up institutions of education and charity of every 
kind, the general influence of the parochial clergy on manners, 
morals, and whatever else is ranked under the comprehensive 
term civilization, has been most effective and most salutary. 
Scattered over every country where Christianity has prevailed, 
living on intimate and confidential terms of intercourse with their 
parishioners of every rank and condition, the Christian clergy 
have been, not an aristocracy of pride, oppression, licentiousness, 
hereditary rank, and overgrown wealth ; — such as has afflicted 
many countries permanently, and almost all countries at a certain 
period of their history; but (in the best sense of the term) an aris- 
tocracy of talents, of learning, of virtue, and of piety, and the 
chief and honored instruments of diffusing these blessings around 
them, and among all ranks and orders of people. This claim, in 
behalf of the general good influence of the clergy on society, is 
not advanced on light grounds ; it may be sustained by proof the 
most unexceptionable ; I content myself with selecting two au- 
thorities. 

" A benefit higher and more universal," says Dr. Arnold, 
a than any of these (to wit, schools, libraries, hospitals, &c), is, 
to secure for every parish the greatest blessing of human society, 
— that is, the constant residence of one individual, who has no 
other business than to do good of every kind to every person. 
Men in general, have their own profession, or trade, to follow ; 
and, although they are useful to society, yet it is but an indirect 
benefit, not intended for society in the first place, but for them- 
selves ; so that no one feels obliged to them for their services, 
because there is nothing in them which partakes of the nature of 
a kindness. Those again, who possess an independent fortune, 
are not only raised too high to be in perfect sympathy with the 
majority of their neighbours, but are exposed to moral temptations 

* Pitkin's History of the United States, Vol. I. p. 153. — Spirit of the English 
Religious Magazines, for the 17th of January, 1835. 
43 



338 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

of a peculiar kind, which often render them an inadequate exam- 
ple to others. Whereas, it is impossible to conceive a man placed 
so favorably for attaining to the highest perfection of our nature, 
as a parochial minister. Apart from all personal and particular 
interests, accustomed by his education and habits to take the 
purest and highest views of human life, and bound by his daily 
business to cherish and sweeten these by the charities of the 
kindest social intercourse, — in delicacy and liberality of feeling 
on a level with the highest, but, in rank and fortune, standing in a 
position high enough to insure respect, yet not so high as to for- 
bid sympathy ; with none of the harshness of legal authority, 
yet with a moral influence such as no legal authority could give, 
— ■ ready to advise when advice is called for, but yet more use- 
ful by the indirect counsel continually afforded by his conduct, 
his knowledge, his temper, and his manners ; — he stands 
amidst the favor and selfishness of the world, as one whom the 
tainted atmosphere cannot harm, although he is for ever walking 
about in it, to abate its malignant power over its victims." * 

Again, the Edinburgh Review, which has never, I believe, 
been complained of for being too favorable to the clergy, says, 

" It is no ordinary national benefit, to have a number of well- 
educated men dispersed over every part of the kingdom, whose 
especial business it is to keep up and enforce the knowledge of 
those most exalted truths, which relate to the duties of man, and 
to his ultimate destiny ; and who, besides, have a sort of gen- 
eral commission to promote the good of those among whom 
they are settled, in every possible manner, to relieve sickness 
and poverty, to comfort affliction, to counsel ignorance, to com- 
pose quarrels, to soften all uncharitable feelings, and to re- 
prove and discountenance vice. This, we say, is the theory 
of the business of a parochial clergy. That the practice should 
always come up to it, it would be utter folly to assert or to expect; 
but, such is the innate excellence of Christianity, that even now, 
amidst all the imperfections of the existing establishment, its 
salutary effects are clearly felt." f 

* Quoted in Walsh's National Gazette, of the 23d of March, 1833. 
t Quoted by Dr. C. K Gadsden, Life of Dehon, p. 152. 



Chap. III.] THE CLERICAL PROFESSION. 339 

Two defects have been so generally imputed to the clergy, 
that I cannot well omit adverting to them. 

1. One of these defects is professional narrowness of mind. 
It must be remembered, however, that this is a defect, common, 
in a greater or less degree, to all the professions and employ- 
ments of life. The opinions and sentiments of all men run very 
much, and sometimes exclusively, in the channel of their own 
habitual pursuits. This seems to be almost inevitable, where 
attention, sufficiently patient and earnest to insure success, is 
given to any one profession or pursuit. And it may well be 
doubt ed, whether this is more emphatically true of the clergy, 
than of men of the other learned and liberal professions. 

2. Again, the clergy have been extensively accused of 
passing by the facts and plainer doctrines of Christianity, of 
making and pursuing speculative, wire-drawn, and useless dis- 
tinctions, and of ascribing a degree of importance to them, to 
which they can have scarcely the shadow of a claim. The re- 
proaches of Gibbon against the clergy, in this particular, are well 
known. But while it may be admitted, that the clergy have 
sometimes speculated and refined injudiciously on the doctrines 
of Christianity, and that they ought always to be distinctly on 
their guard against falling into errors of this kind ; still it must 
be remembered, that it would be in vain for them to satisfy Mr. 
Gibbon and other men like him, unless they would consent to 
abandon every doctrine and every duty, peculiar to the religion 
which they preach. They cannot expect to satisfy every one, 
as long as they hold fast the integrity of their profession. * 

* Mr. Wheaton,in his "Elements of International Law," just published, 
says, " The stern spirit of the Stoic philosophy was breathed into the Roman 
law, and contributed to form the character of the most highly gifted, virtuous, 
and accomplished aristocracy the world ever saw." p. 21. I concur with this 
learned author in thinking very highly of the Roman patricians ; but assuredly, 
in claiming for them the greatest virtue, the rarest accomplishments, and other 
the highest gifts " the world ever saw," he has forgotten the just claims of the 
Christian clergy. 



340 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V 



CHAPTER IV. 

MORAL INFLUENCE AND DUTIES OF MEN OF LETTERS. 

Men of letters, that is, men whose chief pursuit and profes- 
sion is literature and the sciences, including the presidents and 
professors of our universities and colleges, and other instructers ; 
authors of every description, editors of reviews and other peri- 
odical works, are considerable in point of numbers, and still 
more so in respect to the influence which they exercise on 
society. M. Arago, the celebrated French astronomer, was 
right in saying, at the great dinner of the literati at Edinburgh in 
1834, — "It is the men of study and thought, who in the long 
run govern the world. The grandest moral truths spring from 
their discoveries ; it is their writings which render these truths 
fruitful, which popularize them, which make them penetrate the 
minds of the people." * It is this class of men, who chiefly 
employ, and consequently control and direct, the press, — the 
mightiest instrument of evil or of good ever known, and the 
power of which is continually increasing. And in proportion to 
the power which they wield, is the moral obligation which rests 
upon them, to use it for beneficial purposes, and for such pur- 
poses only. Like all other blessings, too, with which Providence 
has favored us, the evil, which may be done by its perversion 
and abuse, is in proportion to the good, which it may accomplish 
when used with skill, integrity, and wisdom. Men of letters are 
chiefly responsible to God, to their country, to their own con- 
sciences and to mankind, for the good or evil use which is made 
of this mighty instrument. 

In general terms, the duties of men of letters, in respect to 
their writings, of whatever kind, may be stated thus ; — they are 
to avoid the perversion and abuse of the press, while they are to 
use it for all the beneficial purposes which it is capable of ac- 



* National Gazette, 8th of November, 1834. 



Chap. IV.] PROFESSION OF MEN OF LETTERS. 341 

complishing. The duty of that portion of men of letters, who 
are devoted to the instruction of youth, is important ; the duty 
of all of them in respect to the intercourse which they hold 
with general society is important ; but their duty in respect to the 
use which they make of the press, is so much more important, 
that I may well be justified in insisting on it somewhat particu- 
larly, and to the neglect of noticing any other branch of their 
duty. 

1. A distinction must be taken between the freedom of the 
press and its licentiousness ; that is, the freedom of the press 
must be restrained within just limits. 

The freedom of the press is often misunderstood. It means 
the right to publish without previous permission, not the right to 
publish without responsibility. If it meant the latter, the liberty 
of the press would be the greatest curse, which could be inflicted 
on a nation. Where a man has a right to publish what he 
pleases, but is responsible to the law for the nature and tendency 
of his publication, the press is free. If he has the right to pub- 
lish without such responsibility the press is licentious. Our Na- 
tional and State constitutions of government guard the freedom 
of the press with the most jealous care ; but still no man has 
a right to make a licentious use of the press on this ground, any 
more than he has a right to use arms for violence and bloodshed, 
because the same constitutions guaranty to him the right to keep 
and carry them for his defence. Accordingly, our courts have 
uniformly decided, that every person may, without previous su- 
pervision, print and publish what he pleases, on his own respon- 
sibility ; but they hold him to be answerable for the abu%e of 
this liberty, as for any other voluntary act ; and that this re- 
sponsibility necessarily arises from the nature of the social rela- 
tions. By the liberty of the press, as their decisions teach us, 
is intended the right to print, and publish among the citizens, the 
truth respecting men and things, on all fitting occasions, where 
it will be useful to be known ; and therefore, it ought not 
to be restrained, because such right is essential to freedom. * 
Every man may publish what he pleases, respecting government, 

* The Hon. P. O. Thacher's opinion, in Commonwealth v. Whitmarsh, July 
Term, 1836. 



342 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

magistracy, or individuals, with good motives and for justifiable 
ends ; and the nature of his motives and ends must, on trial, be 
submitted to a jury. * 

Nor is there any just reason for the complaint, often made by 
men of ardent temperament and heated by passion, that the press 
is laid under the restraint of truth and decorum. This restraint, 
in the case of the press, is one of a numerous class of cases, in 
which the good seems to be inseparable from the restraint im- 
posed. Perhaps no good does exist or can exist unless guarded 
by restraint. The best things that we enjoy, the noblest quali- 
ties that we possess, become vicious by excess. Mercy de- 
generates into weakness, generosity into waste, economy into 
penury, justice into cruelty, ambition into crime. The principle 
of restraint has the sanction of Almighty wisdom itself, for it is im- 
pressed on every part of the physical as well as the moral world. 
The planets are kept in their orbits by the restraint of attraction ; 
but for this law, the whole system would run into inextricable 
confusion and ruin. It does not detract from the simplicity, the 
beauty, the grandeur of this system, to say, that one of the laws, 
which uphold it, is the law of restraint. It is to the restrained 
position of the earth, that we owe the revolution of the seasons, 
with all their appropriate and successive enjoyments ; and to its 
restrained revolution towards the sun, that we owe the relief of 
day and night, the alternate seasons of labor and repose. What 
hinders the vine from wasting its juices in wild and fruitless lux- 
uriance, but the restraint of the pruning-hook, and the discipline 
of the training hand ? What hinders the product of the vine 
from becoming a universal curse, but the restraint of temper- 
ance ? What gives to civilized society its finest charm, but the 
restraints of decorum, of mutual respect, of honor, confidence, 
kindness, hospitality ? Wherever we look, above us, around 
us, below us, we see, that the great conservative principle is re- 
straint, that same restraint which holds human society itself 
together. It does not, then, detract from the value of the liberty 
of the press, to say, that, like all other human blessings, it requires 
the purifying and conservative principle of restraint, f 

* Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. II. pp. 12 -22. 

t See Mr. Wirt's Speech at the trial of Judge Peck in the U. S. Senate, p. 481. 



Chap. IV.] PROFESSION OF MEN OF LETTERS. 343 

2. The press is abused, when it is employed to circulate slan- 
der, misrepresentation, calumny, and falsehood, in any of its 
forms, modifications, or degrees. These offences are more or 
less flagrant, according to their degree and their accompanying 
circumstances ; but they all impair, and their tendency is to de- 
stroy, the usefulness of the press. The great object of the press 
is, the dissemination of truth ; truth in history, in morals, in poli- 
tics, in literature, in science, in philosophy, and in religion ; and 
the glory of the press consists in its love of truth, its impartiality, 
its candor, its fairness, its purity, its sense of justice and recti- 
tude, the manliness of its spirit, the health fulness of its moral 
tone, the useful knowledge it conveys, and the value of the pro- 
ductions which it brings forth. 

The conductors of the daily periodical press, have a duty to 
perform, of special importance, difficulty, and delicacy. News- 
papers are the principal channel by which the sentiments and 
wants of the community are made known ; — they present a living 
and moving picture of the business, the habits, the customs, the 
amusements, and even the vices of the community. They are, 
too, the chief arena of political party warfare. In them, party 
politicians and their retainers assail each other's conduct, motives, 
and intentions ; and in them is all the animation and excitement, 
and much of the passion and violence, of actual combat. Amidst 
the contest for party ascendency, and the strife and bitterness 
of party controversy, the temptation of the editor is very strong, 
himself to abandon, and to permit his correspondents to abandon, 
a reliance on truth, clear statement, and manly argument, and to 
resort for success to the empoisoned weapons of slander, calumny, 
misrepresentation, and even falsehood. Our newspapers, more- 
over, by way of ministering to the most corrupt taste, and to the 
vilest passions, too often contain offensive and disgusting details 
of vice and crime, enough to nauseate every one, and to demor- 
alize the entire youth of the country.* 

3. Men of letters criminally abuse their power, when they 



* The offensive details of the trial of the late Queen of England (consort of 
George IV.) are a specimen of what is here alluded to, and must be within the 
recollection of every person of mature age in this country. Our newspapers were 
flooded with them. 



344 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

make their writings the vehicle of immoral sentiments, or employ 
them to rouse and influence the licentious passions. Examples 
of this abuse might be cited from our own literature ; but, in imi- 
tation of the great Roman moralist,* I prefer, when any thing 
of an evil nature and tendency is to be exposed, to bring to my 
aid foreign rather than domestic illustrations. Sir Walter Scott 
says of the French writers, who aided in preparing the way for 
the French revolution by undermining the morals of society, 
u There was a strain of voluptuous and seducing immorality which 
pervaded not only the lighter and gayer compositions of the 
French, but tinged the writings of those who called the world to 
admire them as poets of the highest mood, or to listen as to 
philosophers of the most lofty pretensions. Voltaire, Rousseau, 
Diderot, Montesquieu, — were so guilty in this particular, that 
the young and virtuous must either altogether abstain from works, 
the which are everywhere the topic of ordinary discussion and 
admiration, or must peruse much that is hurtful to delicacy, and 
dangerous to morals, in the formation of their future character. 
The latter alternative was universally adopted ; for the curious 
will read as the thirsty will drink, though the cup and the page 
be polluted." f Many of the English comedies, and of the 
English and French novels and romances, are extremely immoral 
in their tone and tendency. Lord Kames says of Congreve, 
" If his comedies did not rack him with remorse in his last mo- 
ments, he must have been lost to all sense of virtue." f 

4. The press is still more criminally abused, when it is 
turned to the disparagement, misrepresentation, and vilification of 
the Christian religion. 

As a part of the freedom of the press, the truth and value of 
Christianity, in respect to its doctrines, morals, tendency, gen- 
eral character, and whatever else pertains to it, is open to fair 
and decorous discussion ; and he would miserably defend his 
religion, who should wish it to shrink from any the most severe 
examination of this kind. It is the highest interest of Chris- 
tianity to invite examination, and not to repel it. It has suffered 

* Cicero de Officiis, Lib. II. c. 8. t Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Vol. I. p. 35. 
J Elements of Criticism, Vol. I. p. 59. — Blair's Lectures, No. XLVII. 



Chap. IV.] PROFESSION OF MEN OF LETTERS. 345 

much from neglect and indifference, but never from any severity 
of inquiry or rigor of investigation. But no cause can sustain 
itself without a hearing, and amidst overwhelming torrents of 
misrepresentation, perversion, vilification, and abuse. And here, 
again, I cannot so pertinently and forcibly illustrate the criminal 
abuse of the press when turned against Christianity, as by 
quoting Sir Walter Scott's statement of the virulence with 
which the French infidel writers assailed Christianity just pre- 
vious to the outbreaking of the revolution. " This work," says 
he (that is, assailing Christianity), " the philosophers, as they 
termed themselves, carried on with such an unlimited and eager 
zeal, as plainly to show, that infidelity, as well as divinity, hath 
its fanaticism. An envenomed fury against religion and all its 
doctrines ; a promptitude to avail themselves of every circum- 
stance by which Christianity could be misrepresented ; an inge- 
nuity in mixing up their opinions in works, which seemed the 
least fitting to involve such discussions ; above all, a pertinacity 
in slandering, ridiculing, and vilifying all who ventured to oppose 
their principles, distinguished the correspondents in this cele- 
brated conspiracy against a religion, which, however it may be 
defaced by human inventions, breathes only that peace on earth, 
and good-will to the children of men, which was proclaimed by 
Heaven at its divine origin."* 

No one work in the English language has, probably, over- 
thrown or shaken the faith of so many, as Gibbon's " History of 
the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." The magnitude of 
the work ; the long period of time which it embraces ; the vast va- 
riety and richness of the materials ; the consummate skill with which 
these are wrought into the narrative ; the apparent candor and 
impartiality of the author ; the dignified march of his high-wrought 
and polished style ; all conspire to lull suspicion and to open the 
heart and understanding to his doubts, sneers, surmises, and in- 
sinuations, against the Christian religion. The reader unsus- 
pectingly inquires of himself, how can an author be prejudiced 
and dishonest, who seems so fair and candid r How can he be 
wrong, whose statements seem, at every page, to be sustained by 

* Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Vol. I. p. 36. 
44 



346 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

such a host of choice authorities ? Yet who does not know, 
how easily the mask of superior candor and impartiality is as- 
sumed ; and of all who peruse his history, who incurs the labor 
of examining one in a thousand of the manifold authorities with 
which his pages are crowded ? His learning and judgment are 
not to be envied, who can, at this day, put any confidence in his 
representations of Christianity ; and public confidence appears to 
have become extensively shaken in regard to the dependence 
which may be placed on many other parts of his History. 
M. Guizot, the celebrated French political writer and historian, 
and one of the late ministry, remarks, that, cc the more profound 
his historical researches have been, the more inaccuracies he 
has been enabled to detect in Gibbon.' 5 * 

It was urged as matter of censure against men of letters 
(philosophi) , as long since as the time of Plato and Cicero, that, 
absorbed in contemplation, and devoted too exclusively to their 
own pursuits, they were accustomed to neglect that class of their 
duties which pertains to society and their country. f This is 
unquestionably the tendency of the profession of letters ; and there 
continues to be, even at this day, ground enough for the censure 
in this respect to put literary men on their guard. Cicero, 
more than once, remonstrates against the habit, into which literary 
men are apt to fall, of withdrawing themselves from society, and 
secluding themselves within their peculiar sphere. He well in- 
sists, that the use of solitary study and contemplation is, to fit 
men more completely for their active duties. Every man has du- 
ties of an active and public, as well as of a private and personal 
nature to perform ; and he cannot rightfully neglect the former, 
any more than the latter. Not only professed men of letters, but 
men of cultivated understandings universally, should never forget, 
that knowledge of every kind is like wealth, — the value of it 
consists in the use that is made of it. And how is the intellec- 
tual miser, who locks up his knowledge, more respectable than 
the man who locks up his money, and thus renders it useless, by 
withdrawing it from circulation, and refusing to convert it to any 

* Quoted in Walsh's National Gazette, for the 27th of August, 1833. 
t Cicero de Officiis,, Lib. I. c. 9. 



Chap. IV.] PROFESSION OF MEN OF LETTERS. 347 

useful purpose. The duty particularly rests on men of letters 
and other men of cultivated minds, as has been said before, to 
keep public opinion regulated and enlightened through the me- 
dium of the press. Besides, considerable intercourse with men 
of various classes and professions in society, in business transac- 
tions, and even in the participation of public offices of honor, 
trust, and profit, reacts favorably upon men of letters, and ren- 
ders them better fitted for usefulness even within their own 
sphere. Unless they mingle in society, and in the transaction of 
business, and participate in duties and offices of a public nature, 
they are very apt to see men and things too much in the abstract, 
and by the imperfect light of theory, unassisted by experience. 
Their opinions and sentiments require to be corrected by prac- 
tice, and by an actual acquaintance with men and things. 

If my limits permitted, I might advert to, and enlarge on, the 
duty resting upon men of letters, to supply in all the various 
departments of literature, the materials of reading, of the most 
appropriate kind, and in the utmost abundance. To this end, 
history, civil, political, ecclesiastical, military, diplomatic, and 
literary, opens her treasures ; poetry offers her vivid and sublime 
creations ; religion, her holy aspirations ; fancy, her beautiful 
pictures ; imagination, its exquisite combinations ; taste, its culti- 
vated decisions ; philosophy, its profound speculations ; reason, 
its well-matured conclusions ; and fiction, its resources, so rich 
and exhaustless, as to have been used by Lord Bacon as one of 
the natural and most striking proofs of the immortal destination 
of mankind. All this seems to be the duty of men of letters ; 
for, as Sir Walter Scott well says, U the curious will read as the 
thirsty will drink, whether the cup or the page be clean or pol- 
luted." 



348 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 



CHAPTER V. 

MORAL TENDENCY AND INFLUENCE OF AGRICULTURE AS A 

PROFESSION. 

" The antiquity of agriculture," says the poet Cowley, " is 
certainly not to be contested by any other. The three first men 
in the world were, a gardener, a ploughman, and a grazier ; and, if 
any man object, that one of these was a murderer, I desire he 
would consider, that, as soon as he was so, he quitted our profes- 
sion and turned artisan. We were all born to this art, and 
taught by nature to nourish our bodies by the same earth out of 
which we were made, and to which we must return and pay at 
last for our subsistence." Again, he says, " I never had any 
other desire so strong and so like to covetousness, as that one 
which I have had always, that I might be master at last of a 
small house and a large garden." * 

This is a warm eulogium by the poet, but the ancient writers 
are still more enthusiastic in their praises of agriculture. Their 
admiration of its employments and enjoyments seems to know 
no limits. Hesiod instructed his countrymen on this subject, 
and clothed his instructions in the attractive garb of poetry. f 
Xenophon introduces Socrates, discussing the merits of agricul- 
ture, and claiming for it a preeminence over all other employ- 
ments ; and he has thrown around it the interest which he knew 
so well how to give to every subject which he touched.^ 
Among the Romans, still higher dignity seems to have been 
claimed for it than among the Greeks. Horace has celebrated 
its praises in some of the most finished of his lyrics ; § and 
Virgil has devoted to it the most highly wrought and perfect of 
all his works, — his Georgics. Cicero remarks, that the pleas- 

* Quoted by Dr. Francis, in his Address before the New York Horticultural So- 
ciety, 1829 ; p. 8. 

t Opera et Dies, passim. ± CEconomicus, passim, 

§ Epod. II. 



Chap. V.] PROFESSION OF AGRICULTURE. 349 

ures of agriculture, unlike all others, are not diminished by ex- 
treme old age ; and he insists, that this is the kind of life most of 
all befitting the dignity of a wise man.* Cyrus, the wise king 
of Persia, was accustomed to find relief from the more weighty 
cares of government in the pleasures of agriculture ; and to this 
day, the Emperor of China, on a particular day, every year, in 
the midst of his court, puts his hand to the plough, and plants a 
small piece of land, with a view to confer honor and dignity on 
the employment, f Cincinnatus was called from his farm, to 
assume the reins of government ; and we must never forget, that 
Washington was a substantial Virginia planter, when he was 
made Commander-in-chief of the armies of his country. 

The lands possessed by any nation are the original property or 
capital stock, from which the inhabitants are supplied, not only 
with the necessaries, but with the comforts of life ; and the im- 
provement of the national territory is the best proof of national 
prosperity. Agriculture, then, is of the first importance to man- 
kind ; their welfare depends upon their receiving a regular and 
sufficient supply of the productions cultivated by the husbandman, 
and, therefore, to use an expression of the celebrated Sully, 
" Agriculture may be regarded as the breasts, from which the 
State derives its support and nourishment." Writers on the law 
of nations insist, that the cultivation of the earth is a natural duty 
of man. J Wherever this art has been well understood, and sub- 
sistence, of course, has been secured to mankind, without the 
necessity of personal labor from all, the mind of man has expand- 
ed, and the arts, sciences, literature, morals, religion, and what- 
ever else is most valuable have flourished. The cultivation of the 
soil, therefore, is both the most natural occupation of man, and 
the right arm of the commonwealth. 

The active exercise in the open air, required by his employ- 
ment, tends to give the agriculturist confirmed health, habitual 
cheerfulness, and length of days ; — the stability of his property, 
the regular returns of his harvests, and the security, tranquillity, 

* De Senectute, c. 15. 

t Xenophon, O2conomicus. — Cicero de Senectute, c.17. — Vattel, Law of 
Nations, Book I. chap. 7. 
t Vattel, Book I. chap. 7, sect. 81. 



350 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

and abundance in which he lives, give him much leisure, and, along 
with it, the virtues of firmness, consistency, hospitality, and gen- 
erosity, — - the general independence of his circumstances, placing 
him above any temptation of concealment or disguise, and his 
reliance on Providence for seed-time and harvest, setting him 
above the necessity of consulting or deferring much to others, 
give him independence of mind, energy and frankness of expres- 
sion, manliness of tone, dignity of manners, and self-respect. 
Such is the combination of qualities, which may be looked for in 
the planter and independent farmer, so far as this character is 
formed under the influence of the pursuit. 

The standard of this agricultural character, as it may be called, 
will, it is true, be lower or higher according to incidental circum- 
stances ; such, for instance, as the kind of labor which is chiefly 
employed ; and for this reason, a difference may be expected be- 
tween the agricultural character of the northern and southern 
United States. The advantage, in this respect, has been claimed 
for the latter, on plausible, if not on convincing grounds. It has 
been said, " The general occupation " (of the southern and south- 
western States) "is and must be agriculture ; and in it, we shall 
be able to practise a less exact economy, than is used where the 
laborer's compensation depends on his care and diligence. The 
planter who disposes of his crop in the gross, will have less of the 
spirit of trade, than the farmer, whose daily occupation is one of 
traffic. We find the fact to correspond with the inference. But 
this may not be without its compensation. A circumstance in 
which the great nations of antiquity are said to have mainly dif- 
fered from those of modern times, is, that the people of the 
former lived less for themselves and more for the public and the 
State. The latter, in consequence of the commercial spirit, live 
more for themselves, for their domestic concerns, and the acqui- 
sition of wealth. Resembling the ancients in our institutions, we 
should resemble them in their public spirit. Where every citizen 
is raised to the rank of patrician (unless he be degraded from it 
by his own qualities), he should be more anxious to do honor to 
his rank by his personal character, and feel more interest in the 
prosperity, and more pride in the fame, of the commonwealth. 
He should know, that, however laudable and necessary may be 



Chap. VI.] THE MERCANTILE PROFESSION. 351 

the proper pursuit of wealth, it is not the highest, much less the 
exclusive pursuit. To elevate the moral and intellectual charac- 
ter of himself, of his fellow-citizens, of his country, — these are 
the first and highest objects. Admirable as the morality of 
Franklin is, for its own purposes, a higher and more generous 
morality is requisite for slave-holders."* 



CHAPTER VI. 

MORAL TENDENCY AND INFLUENCE OF COMMERCE AND 
MERCHANDISE AS A PROFESSION. 

On our merchants, more than on any other class of our citi- 
zens, the reputation of our country for probity and honor imme- 
diately depends. The effects of the conduct of others are chiefly 
confined within our own limits ; and the good or evil they may 
do, is seldom felt or known beyond them. The merchant, on the 
contrary, in the prosecution of his business, touches every portion 
of the earth, and comes in contact with the people of all nations. 
Whether our statesmen are wise and patriotic ; our legislators 
enlightened and eloquent ; our divines accomplished and pious ; 
our lawyers and physicians skilful, learned, and faithful ; our 
mechanics, ingenious and industrious, are domestic concerns, 
questions of opinion or prejudice, about which strangers may 
differ with us, without any imputation upon us as a moral and just 
people ; — but whether our merchants are honest ; whether they 
are upright and conscientious ; whether it is safe or dangerous to 
deal with them, are questions of fact, in which foreigners have a 
close and daily interest ; are questions, too, not of theoretical 
speculation, but to be decided by the evidence of experience, by 
the actual transactions of business, not to be misunderstood by 
any capacity, nor concealed from the dullest comprehension. 

The American merchant, then, should never forget, that he 
holds the character of his country, as well as his own, as a sacred 

* Judge Harper's Oration before the South Carolina Society for the Advance- 
ment of Learning, December, 1835 ; p. 13. 



352 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

trust ; and that he betrays both, when he enters into the crooked 
paths of dissimulation and artifice, or the still more devious 
ways of dishonesty and fraud. Strangers can know us only by 
the individuals they deal with, whom, in the spirit and usage of 
trade, they will take as specimens and samples of the whole 
nation. If they find their confidence abused, the reproach is 
visited, not only on the fraudulent merchant, but on his nation, 
and we are all condemned for his iniquitous cupidity. Every 
man, therefore, has an interest in the commercial character of his 
country, and merchants ought to consider themselves as the men 
by whom the intercourse of the human family, however scattered 
and remote, is kept up ; as the instruments of civilization and in- 
tellectual improvement ; as employed to distribute the comforts 
and luxuries of life over the whole surface of the globe. By 
them, the entire race of man, of every variety of complexion and 
character, and wheresoever they may inhabit, are brought togeth- 
er, and taught to know each other, and to aid each other. They 
are the peace-makers of the world ; for they show it to be the 
interest and happiness of all to remain at peace ; and they demon- 
strate, that it is easier to obtain the good things we may desire 
by commerce, than by conquest ; by exchange, than by arms. 
They soften national asperities, and remove unjust prejudices. 
Such high functions require corresponding qualifications to per- 
form them ; and those who do perform them faithfully are among 
the noblest benefactors of mankind. 

The life of a merchant, however, is necessarily a life of peril. 
He can scarcely move without danger. He is subject on all 
sides to disappointments, to fluctuations in prices and in the 
current of business, which sometimes leave him stranded on an 
unknown bar, and sometimes sweep him helpless into the ocean. 
These vicissitudes depend on causes which no man can control ; 
and are often so sudden, that no calculation could anticipate, or 
skill avoid them. To risk much, to be exposed to hazard, be- 
longs to the vocation of a merchant ; his usefulness and success 
depend, in a great measure, on his enterprise. He must have 
the courage to explore new regions of commerce, and to encoun- 
ter the difficulties of untried experiments. To be unfortunate in 
such pursuits is no more disgraceful to an upright merchant than 



Chap. VI.] THE MERCANTILE PROFESSION. 353 

to fall on the field of battle is dishonorable to the soldier, or de- 
feat to a general, who has done all that valor and skill could achieve 
to obtain the victory. Bankruptcy, therefore, is often the conse- 
quence of inevitable misfortune, and is no disgrace, if met with 
fidelity and honor. 

A writer, who ought to be well acquainted with the subject,* 
more than intimates, that the character of an American merchant 
is not highly respected abroad ; that it is looked upon with dis- 
trust ; and that it has been severely reproached. And he seems 
to write under the conviction, that our merchants have given too 
much ground for this want of respect, distrust, and reproach, on 
the part of foreigners. And, while he admits, that our merchants 
have improved and are improving in this respect, he still com- 
plains of a looseness of principle and practice in contracting and 
paying debts among them, " very rare, if not unknown among 
men of the same standing in trade, in Europe, at least on the 
continent." He complains, that the ambition to do a great busi- 
ness is universal and devouring in this country ; that the disposi- 
tion to contract debts has become eager and reckless ; that the 
obligation to pay them is but faintly felt, and that the failure to 
pay them hardly produces a sensation of shame in the defaulter, 
or any resentment or neglect towards him on the part of his 
friends or the public. Pie says, our commercial community seem 
to make a common cause with every delinquent trader, and to 
treat the most criminal extravagance, the most thoughtless indis- 
cretion, the most daring and desperate speculations, with the 
lenity due to accident and misfortune. When the catastrophe 
which, sooner or later, awaits such proceedings, comes, a hasty 
arrangement is patched up between the debtor and his creditors, 
altogether under the dictation of the former, who deals out the 
remnants of his property, if there be any, to his friends or favor- 
ites, at his will and pleasure, with the air of a Lord Chancellor, 
and the creditors have nothing to do but to hear and submit to 
the decree, in the shape of an assignment. Debtor and creditor 
retire from this dishonest transaction mutually dissatisfied ; the 
one to resume his business, his station in society, his pride and 

* Judge Hopkinson of Philadelphia, — Lecture on Commercial Integrity, 2d 
of March, 1832; pp. 4-8. 

45 



354 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

importance, his manner of living, without any visible degradation 
or retrenchment ; and the other, to repeat the same system of 
credit, with the same disastrous credulity. It is not unfrequent 
for the same individual to run a second time over the same course 
of extravagance, folly, and ruin. If this is the manner of our 
settling the affairs of an insolvent, concludes he, we may imagine 
what becomes of the foreign creditor and his claims, and cannot 
be surprised if he is loud in his complaints. 

Without undertaking to confirm the representations of this 
learned magistrate, and most respectable writer, still it cannot be 
denied, that the manner in which bankrupts have, in this country, 
and perhaps elsewhere, too frequently conducted themselves to- 
wards those who have trusted them ; and especially the authority 
they have assumed, and sometimes insolently too, over their 
property, in exclusion of those to whom it rightfully belongs, are 
a subject of just and great complaint, utterly inconsistent with the 
principles of honest dealing, and tending to destroy all confidence 
and all security in commercial transactions. The moral duties 
imposed on a bankrupt merchant are twofold ; — they have re- 
spect to the approach of his bankruptcy, — and, again, to the con- 
dition of things when bankruptcy has actually overtaken him. 

It rarely happens, that the ruin of a merchant is effected at a 
single blow, by a single unlooked for misfortune. It is more 
usually the result of a series of unfortunate events, or imprudent 
expenditures, each bringing him nearer to his overthrow. He 
has usually many significant warnings of his fall, and cannot but 
see its approach, when he dares to look steadily towards it. But 
this he carefully avoids. He shuts his eyes upon it, he strives to 
deceive himself, and continues to deceive others. He turns from 
expedient to expedient, from bank to bank, from friend to friend, 
still increasing his debts and his difficulties, until he can struggle 
no longer, and sinks under a burthen, doubled and trebled by his 
desperate efforts to extricate himself. If he had had the wisdom, 
the manliness, the honesty, to yield to the pressure, when it first 
became too heavy for him, how many sacrifices would have been 
saved, how many debts avoided, how much injury and discontent 
prevented. This weakness, this reluctance to surrender, when 
he knows, or ought to know, that he cannot sustain the contest, 



Chap. VI.] THE MERCANTILE PROFESSION. 355 

is the source of much of the calamity and misconduct which at- 
tend an insolvency. It is confessed and regretted too late. 

But when the struggle is at an end, when the failure is admitted 
and announced, — in this state of his affairs, what will a just and 
conscientious man believe to be his duty ? The true answer to 
this question will present itself, without hesitation, to an ingenuous 
mind, uncorrupted by sophistical opinions, and untrammelled by 
corrupt customs. The answer must be, " I will surrender to my 
creditors my property, of every description, (for in truth it is 
theirs,) to be distributed among them in proportion to their re- 
spective debts, untrammelled by any conditions for my own 
advantage, unimpaired by any disposition or incumbrance made 
with a view to my insolvency ; and I will depend upon their lib- 
erality and my own industry, guarded by more caution and econ- 
omy, for my future fortune and support." Such a man would 
come again into business entitled to public confidence, and he 
would not fail to receive it ; he would come chastened and in- 
structed in the school of misfortune, and, by the upright prudence 
of his second course, would redeem the errors of the first. How 
widely different the course generally taken is from this, has 
already been more than intimated. 

The practice, in disposing of the effects of a bankrupt merchant, 
by which almost always the greater part, and sometimes his en- 
tire property, is given to preferred creditors , so called, among 
whom endorsers usually take precedence, has been reprobated by 
many good men, and, it is believed, cannot be justified on any 
principle of right or good conscience. What is the superior 
claim of an endorser to indemnity and payment ? He was fully 
aware of the hazard when he made the engagement ; it was as 
much an ordinary risk of trade as the sale of merchandise. He 
took the risk upon himself, without asking any other security than 
the solvency and good faith of the drawer. The vendor of goods 
does the same. On this security, the one gives his name, and 
the other his property ; the latter expects nothing but the payment 
of his debt, while, in nine cases out of ten, the former receives 
the like favor in exchange for his own. And yet this endorser is 
to be preferred to the man who has delivered his goods, his labor, 
or his money, on the faith, probably, of the false credit, of the 



356 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

unsubstantial display of wealth, made by the aid of the endorser, 
whose name and promise have thus been the instruments of de- 
ception, the lures to entice the unsuspecting into a gulf of ruin, 
against which the endorser expects to be protected by the virtue of 
an assignment. And the case is greatly aggravated, it becomes, 
in truth, a case of unqualified plunder, when this endorser, after 
putting his preference into his pocket, never pays the engagement 
for which it was given, but settles with his creditors in the same 
way. Can we imagine any thing more shocking to every sense of 
justice and morality, than that an honest merchant, who, but a 
few days before the failure of his debtor, had delivered to him 
goods, at a fair price, should be called to witness his bales of 
merchandise, his barrels of flour, handed over, just as they were 
received from him, to some preferred, some favorite creditor, 
under the pretence that he was an endorser, or under some pre- 
tence equally iniquitous. Yet it is affirmed, that such things have 
happened among our merchants, and that neither shame nor dis- 
honor has overwhelmed the perpetrator of them. # 

This usage, this system of preferences, its injustice, its impol- 
icy, its pernicious effects on fair trading, might be more fully ex- 
posed ; and it might be shown, that, while it is countenanced, it is 
vain to expect a healthy state of commercial credit, a conscientious 
caution in contracting debts, or an honest endeavour to discharge 
them. The only case of preference entitled to favor seems to 
be, where money, or other property is deposited in trust. This 
case is peculiar, and the trust should be held sacred. It has noth- 
ing to do with the trustee's business or trade ; it never, in any 
just acceptation, became a part of the property of the trustee, 
assignable by him as such. It never was, morally, at his disposal 
for any other uses or purposes, than such as were designated by 
the terms of the trust. 

The usual system of endorsing, too, which prevails among 
merchants, the well-known facility of obtaining credit on the faith 
of mere names, is another part of commercial morality which 
has been severely animadverted on. f An endorsement purports 
to be a surety for the payment of the note ; an additional security 

* Hopkinson's Lecture on Commercial Integrity, p. 19. i Idem, pp. 12, 13. 



Chap. VI.] THE MERCANTILE PROFESSION. 357 

to the responsibility of the drawer. How seldom is it so in fact ? 
Experience has taught every one, that the drawer and endorser 
are so linked in with each other, so equally bound in mutual re- 
sponsibilities, that the failure of one is the failure of the other, 
and that the security of both is no better than that of either. 
Excessive credit is the fatal bane of commercial honor and 
honesty. The transactions of business, so called, are, to an 
immense extent, little better than fictions. Goods are sold 
without being paid for, and a note is taken for them which will 
never be paid. This is followed by forced sales and ruinous 
sacrifices of property for immediate relief, temporary relief, and 
the whole winds up with an assignment, w r hen there is nothing 
of any value to assign. This, assuredly, is an unwholesome state 
of trade, and corrupts and undermines the whole commercial 
community. 

Moreover, money so easily obtained is as lightly spent, and 
this brings us to another dark and deep stain on our commercial 
reputation.* The proud splendor, the heedless extravagance, 
the unbounded luxury, in which these ephemeral princes indulge 
themselves, during their transit, are always immoral, shockingly 
so, when, at the conclusion of the farce, it appears that it was 
showed off at the expense, perhaps on the ruin, of creditors. 
Magnificent mansions in town and country, gorgeous furniture, 
shining equipages, costly entertainments, in short, a style of 
living, an exuberance of expenditure, which would be unwise, 
in this country, in any affluence of fortune, and is absolutely 
criminal in the actual circumstances of the spendthrift. And, 
when the blow falls, that prostrates all this grandeur, what arti- 
fices are practised upon the good nature of the creditors, to re- 
tain as much as possible of these gaudy trappings for the family , 
instead of casting them away as the ensigns and testimonies of 
fraud and dishonor. Little consciousness is shown for the inju- 
ries and losses of those who have fed, with their substance, the 
splendid folly of the delinquent, little regard to public opinion, or 
sense of decorum or shame ; but every thing is hurried to a con- 
clusion, that he may resume what he calls his business, and be- 

* Hopkinson's Lecture on Commercial Integrity, p. 14. 



358 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

tray again. And here arises a reflection, domestic, it is true, 
but of infinite concern to a heart that has not extinguished the 
sensibilities and duties of nature, as well as the obligations of jus- 
tice. If the splendid impostor should not live to make his ar- 
rangements with his creditors, but be cut off before he has run 
his course of dissipation, in the very midst of his enjoyments ; 
what a scene of desolation and distress begins in his family. 
The charm is broken, and realities take the place of delusive 
visions of happiness and wealth. Every thing is torn away to 
satisfy abused and irritated creditors ; scarcely a comfort is left, 
where, but just now, all was abundance and luxury. His afflicted 
wife and children, accustomed to the most delicate and costly 
indulgences, with every wish anticipated, every sense of pleasure 
gratified ; so protected, that " the winds of heaven might not 
visit them too roughly ; " unconscious of danger ; in a moment, 
without a warning, find themselves without money, without help, 
and without hope. This is no fiction ; it is a tragedy, which has 
been too often acted on the commercial stage of this country. 

These evils have been ascribed to two causes, — the defects 
of the law, — and the too frequent want of a suitable commercial 
education and training among our merchants.* Too much seems 
to have been done by our legislators to favor the debtor without 
regard to his honesty ; to weaken the rights of creditors, to put 
them at the mercy of the debtor to receive from him just so 
much justice as he may choose to accord to them ; and to deny 
to them a reasonable and satisfactory account from the man who 
first defrauds and then defies them. A bankrupt law is wanted, 
by which a power may be given to competent persons to exam- 
ine closely and particularly, in what manner and for what pur- 
poses the debts of the bankrupt were contracted ; whether in the 
fair and regular pursuit of his business, or in the indulgence of 
flagrant immoralities and vices ; to search deeply, and with the 
means of forcing out the truth, into the ways by which his 
property has been lost or disposed of ; to foil every attempt at 
concealment, to lay all his transactions bare, and to insist upon 
explicit and satisfactory explanations of all that is doubtful ; and, 
when this purifying process is completed, to distribute all the 
effects obtained by it, honestly and equally among the creditors, 

* Hopkinson's Lecture on Commercial Integrity, pp. 9, 20. 



Chap. VI.] THE MERCANTILE PROFESSION. 359 

in proportion to their respective debts. Such a law ought to 
admit of no preferences to endorsers ; no favors to friends ; no 
partial assignments for special objects, which are just so many 
means by which an insolvent debtor may stipulate for and cover 
benefits for himself ; and finally, while a bankrupt law ought to 
inflict severe penalties upon a fraudulent, prevaricating, and per- 
jured debtor, it ought to hold out cheering inducement and hon- 
orable rewards to the open and upright man, to cherish and pro- 
tect the unfortunate, but honest debtor, and to return him a part 
of his substance, with which to supply his wants and resume his 
business. 

Again, men too frequently assume the profession of merchants 
in this country, who are utterly unqualified by the general edu- 
cation, by the particular education, by the knowledge and ac- 
quirements, which are indispensable to command respect, and 
obtain a continued and honorable success. To open the springs 
and manage the currents of commerce, to plan a voyage of ad- 
venture and calculate its contingencies, to provide and regulate 
the funds and finances of various extensive mercantile operations, 
so that they shall meet every want at the proper time and place, 
is the business of the higher order of merchants. Is commerce 
so low in the scale of human affairs, that the qualifications it de- 
mands are so common, as to require no education suitable for 
them, no experience to obtain them ? Why should not a 
youth, who aims at the profits and honors of commerce, who 
expects to be distinguished by ability and success as a merchant, 
begin his career in a counting-house, where he can see the 
practical operations of business in its various branches ; where 
he can acquire habits of system, regularity, and exactness ; ac- 
quire thorough skill in accounts ; learn to distinguish, with 
promptness and accuracy, the qualities of merchandise ; antici- 
pate the fluctuations of the market, by the causes which usually 
affect them ; and acquire a tact of caution and foresight, of cal- 
culation and decision, which alone can secure a safe and con- 
tinued prosperity. This is the way in which merchants who 
deserve, or even aspire to the name, are made in other coun- 
tries.* 

* Ibid., p. 10. 



360 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

The Romans put an humble estimate on merchants, as the 
Russians do at this day. Napoleon, late emperor of the French, 
concurred with them, in placing merchants among the more hum- 
ble orders of society ; but these seem to be exceptions, and the 
genuine mercantile character, at which every merchant ought to 
aim, is truly respectable and honorable, and has generally been es- 
teemed so, at all times. A wise and prudent foresight combined 
with enterprise and decision, punctuality, regularity, and exactness, 
exterisive practical knowledge of men and things, sterling integ- 
rity and untarnished honor, are the shining virtues of the mercan- 
tile profession. The merchants of Babylon " were the great 
men of the earth," # and the merchants of Tyre, called in Holy 
Writ, " the crowning city," were " princes, and the honorable of 
the earth." f And who, that is familiar with the English classics, 
has not dwelt with admiration on Mr. Addison's description of 
the English merchants, and of the wide sphere and blessings of 
English commerce, given in a visit of the " Spectator " to the 
Royal Exchange. J 



CHAPTER VII. 

MORAL TENDENCY AND INFLUENCE OF MANUFACTURING 

ESTABLISHMENTS. 

The moral and other influences of manufacturing establish- 
ments have been the subject of much discussion, during many 
years past. The effects of them, both good and evil, have long 
been fully understood in Europe, especially in England, and they 
are beginning, not indistinctly, to manifest themselves in this 
country. A Report made to the Legislature of Massachusetts, 
on the 17th March, 1836, discloses the state of public feeling and 
opinion in that respectable State, and shows how far the evils 
so well known in England have already manifested themselves 
there. 

* Revelation xviii. 23. t Isaiah xxiii. 8. $ Spectator, No. 69. 



Chap.VIL] MANUFACTURING ESTABLISHMENTS. 361 

The committee say, that the employments, and consequently 
the condition, of large classes of the population of New England, 
and especially of Massachusetts, are changed and are rapidly 
changing ; and that it has become the solemn and indispensable 
duty of the legislature to provide seasonably and effectually, that 
those institutions, which have given to New England her peculiar 
character for general intelligence and virtue, be not changed with 
the changing employments of her people. They declare, that 
the consequences of this change of employments are not antici- 
pation and speculation merely, that they are facts of which they 
have been witnesses. After adverting to various well-known 
facts and circumstances, they again say, " The causes for anxiety, 
to which we have so briefly alluded, may operate silently and 
unseen ; but they will operate eternally as the laws of gravity. 
And their influence, both immediate and prospective, must be 
carefully watched by all who would cherish and secure the purity 
and permanency of our free institutions." * ' They say, too, that 
in this case, if we would reason and act with discretion, we must 
reason and act upon the contemplation of causes without waiting 
for their full effect, because, if the dangers to which their at- 
tention has been directed, cannot he foreseen and prevented, they 
have no remedy. They allege, that powerful causes are in con- 
stant operation, within the sphere of large manufacturing estab- 
lishments, to frustrate and prevent that universal education, 
which, they say, was provided for by the forecast and beneficence 
of the founders of the New England republics, " on which 
alone we can rely for our domestic, social, and moral well-being, 
which our institutions suppose and require, and which has made 
these republics the nurseries of intelligent, enterprising, and patri- 
otic citizens for the younger sisters of the Union." They argue the 
inestimable importance of universal education to this country, 
where, by our laws of universal suffrage, the government is thrown, 
at short periods, into the hands of the whole mass of the people, 
without reference to their intelligence or their virtue. They state, 
that in a manufacturing population of less than twenty thousand 
within the State, there are eighteen hundred and ninety-five 



* See Report, p. 11. 
46 



362 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

children between the ages of four and sixteen, who do not attend 
the common schools any portion of the year, and that from this 
number but a very slight deduction is to be made for those who 
attend private schools. They are sensible, too, that no wisdom 
of the legislature can remove the natural causes of prospective 
evil on which they dwell ; — the most they expect, is, that they 
may, in some degree, counteract them and diminish their effects. 
That may often be counteracted, in a measure, which cannot be 
entirely remedied. In view of these considerations, they earn- 
estly recommend to the legislature to use all the means known 
to, and consistent with, our institutions, to secure universal edu- 
cation throughout the commonwealth. 

These observations and arguments of the very respectable 
committee of the Massachusetts Legislature have been thus 
abridged and presented by me in a summary way, not certainly 
in a spirit of hostility to manufacturing establishments, but to call 
the attention of their proprietors and all others to the dangers 
impending, and to urge them to counteract, as far as they can, 
the deteriorating influences which these establishments must, 
from their nature, in some degree, exert on those who are em- 
ployed in them. For the sake of distinctness, it may be well to 
enumerate the principal evils, which have sprung from manufac- 
turing establishments in England, and which are beginning to be 
felt in this country, with the remedies on which we can place 
most reliance, and to accompany both with very brief illustrations. 

1. Manufacturing establishments are unfavorable to health and 
length of life. This is to be ascribed to the severity of the con- 
finement of the inmates, to the impure atmosphere which they 
breathe, to their want of opportunities for exercise, and, above 
all, to their being kept from the enjoyment and the invigorating 
influences of the open air. 2. Their tendency is, to make the 
rich richer, and the poor poorer. A manufacturing population 
is divided into capitalists and laborers, owners and operatives, — 
the former class generally small in number, and wealthy ; the 
latter numerous, poor, and depressed. The laborers receive 
little, if any thing, more than a scanty subsistence, while it is in 
the nature of capital to augment itself. 3. They are highly 
unfavorable to intellectual, moral, and social improvement. The 



Chap. VII.] MANUFACTURING ESTABLISHMENTS. 363 

collection of large numbers of children, youth, and middle-aged 
persons, of both sexes, into compact villages, is not a circum- 
stance favorable to virtue. Nor is it difficult to understand, that 
a change in occupation, from those diversified employments 
which characterize an agricultural people, to the simple operations 
consequent upon that minute subdivision of labor, upon which the 
success of manufacturing industry depends, is not a circumstance 
favorable to intellectual developement. By the former, the in- 
genuity and inventive powers are called into action, in the com- 
bination and adaptation of means to ends, and thereby they are 
developed and strengthened. By the latter employment, the 
invention having been made by some master spirit, the operative 
is reduced, in some degree, to the humble sphere of a part of the 
machinery. 4. Unless their natural deteriorating tendency can be 
counteracted, there is reason to fear, that they may prove un- 
propitious to the success of our republican institutions. If these 
institutions continue to be sustained, which we must not permit 
ourselves to doubt, they must rest on the general prevalence 
of knowledge and virtue, as their main pillars. 

The legislatures of our States may counteract the natural ten- 
dencies of manufacturing establishments, in a certain measure, 
and their proprietors may aid in counteracting them still more. 
1. By prohibiting children from being employed in manufacturing 
establishments more than a part of the time, during those years 
when the body needs much exercise in the open air to strengthen 
it, and when they ought to be acquiring the elements of educa- 
tion. This is the plan recommended by the Massachusetts com- 
mittee to the legislature. 2. By the establishment of savings 
banks, in which the operative manufacturers shall be encouraged 
to deposite a part of their scanty earnings for their future use. 
3. By prohibiting, or if not, yet by discouraging the use of 
spirituous liquors ; and, to this end, by prohibiting or discouraging 
the keeping of dram-shops in the neighbourhood of manufactur- 
ing establishments. 4. By encouraging the suitable observance 
of Sunday, and, to this end, building churches in the neighbour- 
hood and supporting the ministers, establishing schools, specially 
designed for their children, and libraries, well furnished with 
books of entertainment and instruction suited to their wants and 



364 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

capacities. This is a duty devolving rather on the proprietors 
of manufacturing establishments than on the legislatures ; and the 
author is acquainted with several instances in Massachusetts, in 
which this duty has been discharged in a manner equally hon- 
orable to the proprietors and beneficial to the laborers. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

MORAL TENDENCY AND INFLUENCE OF THE VARIOUS 

MECHANICAL TRADES. 

It does not come within my plan to do more, than make some 
general remarks on the moral tendency and influence of the 
various mechanical employments. The most obvious division 
of them is, into the active and the sedentary ; and the first of 
these may again be divided into those which are pursued under 
shelter, and those which are pursued in the open air. A third 
class of mechanical occupations may be referred to, as being 
subjected to the specific agencies of a deleterious or poisonous 
nature, as those of painters, glaziers, gilders, &c. That class 
of mechanics whose employments are active, and are pursued 
chiefly in the open air, or, if under shelter, yet permit the free 
access of fresh air, live under many of the favoring moral influ- 
ences of agriculture. # Some of these are even superior to agri- 
culture in the opportunities and facilities for invention which they 
furnish, and, in this respect, they favor and stimulate intellectual 
improvement. This is the case with ship-building, engineering, 
&c. Most of them, too, are eminently conducive to health, the 
most precious of blessings, next to a good conscience, and which 
is itself one of the most powerful of all the moral influences. 

On the other hand, the sedentary mechanical employments are 
much less conducive to health, intellectual developement, and 
good morals. Besides certain evils peculiar to each, particular 
disadvantages belong to them all in common ; 1. Confinement to 
one position, and consequent defects of muscular action. 2. The 

* See above, pp. 349, 350. 



Chap. VIII.] THE MECHANICAL TRADES. 365 

incidental, but unavoidable, seclusion from fresh air. 3. The 
necessity of employing artificial heat in winter, arising from the 
inadequate production of animal heat, by reason of want of exer- 
cise. The sedentary mechanical trades, therefore, partake con- 
siderably of the adverse moral influences, which have been ascrib- 
ed to manufacturing establishments. The mechanical occupa- 
tions, which, by the nature of the materials used or worked upon, 
subject the laborer to a specifically poisonous influence, as in the 
case of gilders, paintprs, &c, are, of all, the most injurious in 
their moral as well as in their intellectual and social tendency. 



To dwell more minutely on the moral tendency of the various 
mechanical trades, does not consist with my plan of confining 
myself to the elements of moral philosophy. It will be more use- 
ful to close this part of my labors by making several observa- 
tions of a general character, and pertaining more or less to all the 
professions and employments in life. 

1 . Those professions and employments are to be preferred for 
children, which are most favorable to health, morals, intellectual 
and social improvement, personal religion, good habits, &c. This 
does not seem to need illustration. 

2. The great advantage of wealth is, not that the wealthy man 
may rightfully live without any business, or any useful business, 
but that his wealth puts it in his power to select his employment. 
No man is justified in spending his life in doing nothing, or noth- 
ing useful. Every man is bound to make himself useful in his 
day and generation. But some employments are vastly more 
healthful, honorable, and otherwise agreeable, than others ; and, 
among them all, the wealthy man may rightfully take his choice. 

3. No good man can, in the way of his profession or employ- 
ment, permit himself to be made accessory to the perpetration of 
crime, guilt, or any palpable wrong whatever. This has already 
been illustrated, in a certain measure.* On this subject, it may be 
admitted, that a very definite rule cannot well be prescribed ; but 

' ' ! ' T 

* See above, pp. 224, 225 ; 313, 314. 



366 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

still reasonable limits may be assigned, which, with an honest 
purpose in view, will be a safe guide to the conscience. (1.) In 
regard to some things, their use and tendency are naturally good, 
and will always be so in fact, unless they are grossly perverted 
and abused. This is true of almost all the professions and 
employments of life, — they are almost all useful in their way 
and degree. (2.) The tendencies and consequences of other 
things, and of certain transactions, are doubtful. A gunsmith 
may, in the way of his business, rightfully dispose of a brace 
of pistols to a stranger as well as to an acquaintance, although 
he does not know but the stranger may use them in duelling, or 
to extort the purses of travellers on the highway. An apoth- 
ecary may rightfully sell arsenic with suitable precautions ; be- 
cause arsenic is used in medicine, and for some other useful 
purposes, as well as to commit suicide. In such transactions as 
these, a good man may, as a general rule, be safely engaged. The 
exceptions consist of those cases, where the doubt is, by some 
means, converted into certainty or reasonable probability, that 
evil will be the consequence. (3.) Cases in which the effect 
must, in the natural course of things, be evil, and only or chiefly 
evil. For instance, the sale of spirituous liquors, except as a 
medicine, and the circulation of immoral books whether by sale 
or otherwise. In neither of these things ought a good man, under 
any circumstances, to be engaged. I shall dwell for a moment 
on the latter case, to confirm and illustrate the principle in 
question. 

I stand in a bookseller's shop, and observe his customers suc- 
cessively coming in. One orders a Bible, another a lexicon, a 
third a work of scurrilous infidelity, and a fourth a new licentious 
romance. If the bookseller takes and executes these several 
orders with the same willingness, is there no inconsistency, no 
violation of moral principle ? Perhaps this bookseller is so con- 
scious of the mischievous effects of some of his books, that he 
would not put them into the hands of his children, nor suffer 
them to be seen in his parlour. But, if he thus knows the evils 
which they are fitted to inflict on society, can it be right for him 
to be the agent in diffusing them ? Step into the shop of this 
bookseller's neighbour, a druggist ; and there, if a person asks for 



Chap. VI1L] MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. 367 

some arsenic, the salesman begins to be anxious. He considers 
whether it is probable the buyer wants it for a proper purpose. 
If he sells it, he cautions the buyer to keep it where others can- 
not have access to it ; and, before he delivers the packet, legibly 
inscribes upon it, — poison. One of these men sells poison to 
the body, and the other poison to the mind. If the anxiety and 
caution of the druggist is right, the indifference of the bookseller 
must be wrong. Add to this, that the druggist would not sell 
arsenic at all, if it were not sometimes useful ; but an immoral or 
licentious book cannot be useful to any person, or on any occa- 
sion whatever. 

But this point may be usefully pursued still further. Suppose 
that no printer would commit such a book to his press, and that 
no bookseller would offer it for sale, the consequence would be, 
that nine-tenths of these manuscripts would be thrown into the 
fire, or rather that they would never have been written. The 
inference is obvious ; and, surely, the consideration does not 
need enforcing, that, although one man's refusal may not prevent 
immoral books from being published, he is not therefore exempted 
from the obligation to refuse. A man must do his duty, whether 
the effects of his conduct be such as he would desire, or other- 
wise. Such purity of conduct might, no doubt, circumscribe a 
man's business, and so does purity of conduct in some other em- 
ployments ; but, if this be a sufficient excuse for contributing to 
demoralize the world, if profit be a good justification for departing 
from rectitude, it will be easy to defend the most atrocious 
crimes. He who is more studious to justify his conduct than to 
act aright, may say, that, if a person may sell no book that can 
injure another, he can scarcely sell any book. The answer is, 
that, although there must be some difficulty in discrimination, 
though a bookseller cannot always inform himself what the precise 
tendency of a book is, — yet there can be no difficulty in judging, 
respecting many books, that their tendency is evil, and only evil. 
If we cannot define the precise line of distinction between the 
good and the evil, we can still perceive the evil when it has at- 
tained to a certain magnitude. He who cannnot distinguish day 
from twilight, can distinguish it from night. And not only book- 
sellers, but all who are knowingly concerned in the circulation of 



368 MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. [Part V. 

immoral and licentious books, to wit, printers, binders, and keep- 
ers of circulating libraries, come in for their share of the guilt. 
But what shall we say of the authors of such books ? They stand 
on a high preeminence of guilt ; for, without them, such books 
would never have existed. I have selected the case of writing 
and circulating immoral books, to illustrate a general principle. 
The principle itself ought to be applied to reform and purify sev- 
eral employments which exist among us.* 

4. No man can rightfully do any thing on the ground of a spe- 
cial code of professional morals, which he would not do on his 
own personal responsibility. Judge Hopkinson says, opinions 
have got a footing among mercantile men, a code of ethics has 
received a sanction from them, which appear to him to be alto- 
gether wanting in sound principles of justice and morality. Again, 
he says, addressing merchants, " Do not believe that there is one 
sort of honesty, one code of morality, for your business, and 
another for your ordinary transactions ; that you may deceive 
and ruin a man in the way of trade, while you would shrink from 
taking a pin from his pocket ; that any thing can be just and hon- 
orable in a merchant, that is not so in the man and the citizen, in 
the gentleman and the Christian. Such distinctions may satisfy 
the ethics of a vicious cupidity, and quiet the conscience of one 
who would be honest only for the world's eye, and to avoid the 
penalties of crime ; but can never be sanctioned by a pure and 
uncorrupted mind."f 

If there is, among merchants, a special code of professional 
morals, subversive of the ordinary principles of morals, as this 
learned jurist asserts ; there may be similar codes known to, and 
practised by, men of other professions. And his denunciation 
of this special mercantile code, must equally apply to all similar 
professional codes, customs, and systems, of whatever kind they 
may be. 

5. Every honest man ought to blush to do any act as a mem- 
ber of a committee, corporation, legislature, or other body of 
men, which he would not be willing to do on his own individual 
responsibility. That bodies of men act with less rectitude and 

* Dymond's Principles of Morality, pp. 368, 169. 
1 Lecture on Commercial Integrity, pp. 16, 22. 



Chap. VIII.] MORALS OF THE DIFFERENT PROFESSIONS. 369 

less disinterestedness than individuals, has been affirmed by the 
most accurate observers of the conduct of mankind ; and for this 
an obvious reason has been given. Members of committees, 
corporations, legislatures, &c, sit with a divided responsibility ; 
and "regard to reputation has a less active influence, when the 
infamy of a bad action is to be divided among a number, than 
when it is to fall singly on an individual." # This corporation 
spirit, as it may be called, which belongs, in a greater or less 
degree, to all associations of whatever kind, should be well 
known to, and kept in mind by, those who take the lead in 
directing our charitable, missionary, education, and other similar 
societies. Their success and usefulness depend on their secur- 
ing general favor and esteem. To this end, they must pursue 
their noble objects by none but right means. I am not con- 
vinced, that there is any just cause of complaint against these 
associations ; — they do honor to our times, and are one of the 
brightest hopes of the times to come ; but their conductors should 
understand their tendency to this abuse, the besetting sin to which 
they are most exposed, and guard well against it. 

* Alexander Hamilton, in the Federalist, No. 15* 



47 



PART SIXTH. 

A SPECIAL CONSIDERATION OF CERTAIN DUTIES 
AND VIRTUES, OF A CHARACTER PECULIARLY 
CHRISTIAN; AND A SIMILAR CONSIDERATION 
OF CERTAIN VICES AND EVILS. 

Not only the gross sensual vices, some of which cannot even 
be named without shocking the ears of a Christian,* but hatred, 
variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, 
murders, drunkenness, revellings, idolatry, deceit, malignity, 
backbiting, hating of God, pride, vain-glory, hypocrisy, uncharit- 
ableness, invention of evil things, disobedience to parents, cove- 
nant-breaking, implacability, want of understanding, want of com- 
passion, covetousness, absence of natural affection, and the like, 
are ascribed, in Holy Writ, to the flesh lusting against the 
spirit, and are denounced as damnable vices, which will exclude 
those who practise them from all hope of the kingdom of God.f 
On the other hand, love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, 
goodness, faith, meekness, temperance, are called the fruit of 
the Spirit, and are ascribed to the influence of the Holy Spirit of 
God. J Giving all diligence, we are required to add to our 
faith, virtue ; and to our virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, 
temperance ; and to temperance, patience ; and to patience, 
godliness ; and to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly 
kindness, charity. § Christians, as the elect of God, are to 
put on bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meek- 
ness, long-suffering ; forbearing one another, and forgiving one 
another, if any man have a quarrel against any. And, above all 
these things, they are to put on charity, which is the bond of 
perfectness.|| 

* 1 Corinthians v. 1. t Romans i. 29-31 ; Gal. v. 17-21. 

t Galatians v. 22. § 2 Peter i. 5-7. || Colossians iii. 12-14. 



Chap. I.] FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 371 

It is not requisite, that all these virtues and vices should be 
made the subjects of special consideration in a treatise of moral 
philosophy ; — ■ most of them, perhaps all of them, have been oc- 
casionally adverted to, as circumstances suggested, and may be 
so adverted to again ; — but there are some of them, without the 
special consideration of which my labors would be too imperfect 
to expect the approbation of those whose favorable judgment I 
am anxious to obtain. 



CHAPTER I. 

DUTY OF FORGIVING INJURIES. 



In the prayer prescribed by our Saviour to his disciples, we 
are authorized to expect the forgiveness of our trespasses, only 
in the measure in which, and on the condition that, we forgive 
those who trespass against us. And it is worthy of attention, 
that, after prescribing this prayer, the Saviour, omitting all notice 
of the other parts of it, selected this clause, upon which to make 
a special comment. He says, "If ye forgive men their tres- 
passes, your heavenly Father will also forgive you ; but if ye for- 
give not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive 
your trespasses." * As Christians, we are to " recompense to 
no man evil for evil." We are to "bless those who perse- 
cute us ; we are to bless and curse not." We are not to 
"avenge ourselves, but rather to give place unto wrath ; for it is 
written, ' Vengeance is mine ; I will repay, saith the Lord.' " If 
an " enemy be hungry, we are to feed him ; if he be thirsty, we 
are to give him drink. We are not to be overcome of evil, but 
to overcome evil with good." f Again, " This is thankworthy, 
if a man for conscience toward God endure grief, suffering 
wrongfully. For what glory is it, if, when ye be punished for 
your faults, ye shall take it patiently ? but if, when ye do well, 
and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with 
God."} 

* Matt. vi. 9-15. t Romans xii. 14 - 21 . 1 1 Peter ii. 19-20. 



372 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

The forgiveness of injuries, therefore, is a preeminent Chris- 
tian virtue and duty, and the highest place among the virtues 
is assigned it by our Saviour. It seems to have been unknown 
to the ancient heathen moralists ; and moreover, even at the 
present day, it seems to have made comparatively, and surpris- 
ingly, small progress in the world. Many men refuse to forgive 
offences, who w T ould consider themselves very much wronged, 
by the imputation, that they live in the habitual transgression of 
one of the fundamental points of Christian morals. The prac- 
tice of this duty is admitted to be difficult, in the highest degree 
difficult. It requires a command over those passions, which, of 
all others, are most violent in their impulses, anger, resentment, 
revenge, and malice, — passions which have filled the earth with 
every kind and degree of violence and wrong, of sorrow and 
suffering. Our Saviour knew how difficult the practice of this 
duty is, how much self-command, how much self-discipline, how 
much expansion of mind, how much benevolence of heart, how 
enlightened a conscience, how firm a sense of duty, it requires ; 
but he has not made this difficulty an excuse for neglecting it. 
On the contrary, he admits the difficulty, and requires his disci- 
ples to rise superior to it. " Ye have heard," says he, " that 
it hath been said, ' Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine 
enemy.' But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that 
curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that 
despitefully use you and persecute you ; that ye may be the 
children of your Father who is in heaven ; for he maketh his sun 
to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just 
and on the unjust. For, if ye love them (only) that love you, 
what reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the same ? 
And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than 
others ? do not even the publicans so ? Be ye, therefore, per- 
fect (in your benevolence and good-will), even as your Father 
who is in heaven is perfect." * 

The duty itself, then, of forgiving injuries, and the importance 
of the duty, are as clear as the bright shining of the sun at noon- 
day ; still the nature, measure, and rule of the duty admit and 
require further illustration. 

* Matt. v. 43 - 48. 



Chap. I.] FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 373 

I. The rule of forgiveness, when injury has been done to us, 
is, of all the rules of conduct, best adapted both to the moral 
and physical constitution of man. As a general principle, if we 
wish to know what will be the effect of a certain course of con- 
duct on others, we have only to turn our attention inward, and 
inquire, what would be its effect on ourselves ? We all know, 
that the natural effect of anger in others towards us is to excite 
anger in ourselves ; of kindness, to excite feelings of kindness. 
It seems to be a universal law of nature, that like should produce 
its like. The herb yields seed, and the fruit-tree fruit, each after 
its kind ; and on the regularity and certainty of this law the hus- 
bandman relies with the utmost confidence. Something like the 
same law prevails in regard to many diseases to which the hu- 
man body is subject. Fever flies from one individual to another, 
and is, in kind, the same disease. The same law prevails in the 
intellectual and moral world. In all that is said about the force 
of example, this is taken for granted. It is upon this principle, 
also, that we account for the power of sympathy. The natural 
tendency of mirth is to awaken mirth, and of grief to produce 
grief. So also of the benevolent and the malignant passions. 
Does not unkindness towards us from others excite unkind 
feelings towards them in our own breasts ? 

As a necessary consequence of this law, therefore, we, by 
retaliation, or returning evil for evil, are only adding fuel to the 
flame. It was, probably, some unkindness on our part, either 
real or imagined, which first excited the hostile feelings towards 
us. By increasing that unkindness if real, or by making it real 
if it was imaginary, vdo we expect to remove the hostile feelings ? 
We might as well expect to remove an infection from an individ- 
ual by filling his lungs with the fatal miasma which has caused it. 
We might as well expect, that, in agriculture, corn will not yield 
corn, and wheat will not yield wheat. We might as well laugh, 
and expect others to weep ; or weep, and expect others to laugh. 
There is, then, a two-fold wrong in returning evil for evil. We 
are cherishing the same angry feelings in our own minds which 
we condemn in others ; and, in the minds of others, we are in- 
creasing and perpetuating the same feelings. " As coals are to 



374 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

burning coals, and as wood to fire, so is a contentious man to 
kindle strifes." * 

On the other hand, it is equally true, that the natural tendency 
of kindness from others is to awaken kind feelings in our minds 
towards them. When a man injures an individual, and he, in- 
stead of retaliating, generously forgives him, and, resisting the im- 
pulse of his fallen nature, pursues the elevated course prescribed 
by the rule of forgiveness, embracing every opportunity to do 
him a kindness, it invariably, if he is not a monster, softens and 
subdues his hostile feelings. He soon begins to accuse himself 
of having been in the wrong, and feels disposed to make amends 
for the past, and to act otherwise in future. Here, then, we 
may see how similar conduct on our part will affect the mind of 
another. " As, in water, face answereth to face, so the heart of 
man to man." f Consulting the laws of human nature, therefore, 
our reason must unite with Scripture in convincing us, that we 
can overcome evil only by returning good. J We must, in the 
spirit of our religion, rise above the first impulse of our depraved 
nature, and, ever aiming to do good, pursue the course prescribed 
by this Christian rule. 

Further argument to my purpose may be derived from the 
consideration, that the course of conduct prescribed by this rule 
is attended by what does not attend an opposite course, to wit, 
an approving conscience. He who returns kindness for injury, 
who fills with good the very hand that is lifted to do him harm, 
feels that he is acting an elevated and magnanimous part. In the 
gentleness of his own mind there is an inward peace, in the very 
benevolence of his intention there is a happiness, pure and sub- 
stantial. There is a voice speaking within him which nothing 
can silence, and it tells him that he is doing right. Compare this 
spirit with its opposite, and it may be seen who is the enviable 
man ; he, who, fretting and raging at the injuries which he has 
received, would hurl vengeance on the aggressor, or he, who, 
calming down every rising passion, keeps his spirit in subjection, 
and, looking with benevolence upon one who has wronged him, 

* Proverbs xxvii. 21. t Proverbs xxvii. 19. % Romans xii. 21. 



Chap. I.] FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 375 

is not overcome of evil, but seeks to overcome evil with good. 
Which is rewarded with real pleasure, the spirit of resentment 
and retaliation, or that of forgiveness and good-will ? While the 
one, like the deep fires of a volcano, burns and rages within, the 
other is inspired with calmness, serenity, and satisfaction of mind. 

On the one side, we see an individual who has been injured. 
He is devising a way by which he can retaliate ; his mind is 
roused by resentment, and, by some return of evil, he is seeking 
satisfaction. On the other side, we see another individual, to 
whom an equal injury has been done ; but he, in the spirit of for- 
giveness and good-will, is meditating how he can benefit the man 
who has injured him. Which is the more to be envied in the 
event of success ? I need not advert to the case of him, who, 
haggard in countenance, tortured in heart, and stricken in con- 
science, has satiated his burning vengeance by the assassination 
of his victim. I need not call to mind the case of the victorious 
duellist who has laid his antagonist low in the dust ; nor the case 
of him, who, by any overwhelming stroke of retaliation, has suc- 
ceeded in inflicting ruin on his enemy. In these cases, the mis- 
ery of success is too manifest to need remark. Observe him 
who is intent on retaliation in any of the more common ways, by 
which injury is returned, by evil insinuation, by the whisper of 
detraction, by dark surmises, or by public abuse and the viru- 
lence of invective ; observe him, looking upon the object of his 
resentment under the consciousness, that he has triumphed, that 
he has tarnished his reputation and blasted his hopes for the fu- 
ture ; can we believe that the peace of Heaven attends his suc- 
cess ? On the other hand, observe him, who, by returning good 
for evil, has disarmed and overcome the aggressor, and, from 
being his enemy, has made him his friend. Does he not, must 
he not, from the constitution of his nature, enjoy a peace and 
tranquillity of mind, an inward satisfaction, to which the other is 
a stranger ? The rule of forgiveness, then, is adapted to the 
moral constitution of man. 

Nor is the argument derived from the effect which the malig- 
nant passions exert upon the health and the physical constitution 
of man generally, without great weight. In this respect, also, 
the rule of the Gospel is admirably suited to the nature of man. 



376 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

The evil effects of an intemperate indulgence of the appetites 
are so many beacons which the Maker of our bodies has erected 
to warn us against danger. So also of the angry and malignant 
passions. It is universally known, that a peaceful disposition is 
conducive to health, and, on the contrary, an irascible disposition 
injurious to it. Hence, the care of skilful physicians, in critical 
cases, to have the minds of their patients kept in peace and tran- 
quillity. It may, therefore, be affirmed, that the rule which requires 
us not to be overcome of evil, but to overcome evil with good, 
is adapted both to the physical and the moral constitution of man. 

II. This rule of conduct, prescribed and enjoined by the Gos- 
pel, is also the one best adapted to man's character and condi- 
tion. This position may be confirmed and sustained by viewing 
man under three aspects ; as a social being ; as a sinful being ; 
as a being responsible for his actions, and destined to an immortal 
existence beyond the grave. 

1 . As a social being. It is manifestly the design of the Cre- 
ator, that man should cultivate and cherish the social and kindly 
affections. Life begins with the tender relations of parents and 
children, and brothers and sisters, relations eminently, calculated 
to call forth kindness and sympathy. The earliest feeling, awak- 
ened in the heart of the infant, seems to be. love. Its first act of 
intelligence is, to recognise its mother with a smile. The moth- 
er's kindness soon leads the child to distinguish her from all others, 
and to cling to her as the object of its affection and confidence. 
From this early period, the child grows up in the bosom of the 
family, where the kind affections are daily cherished, and extend- 
ed to other objects, until brothers, sisters, grand-parents, and 
neighbours, as well as parents, are gradually brought within the 
circle of its attachment and kindness. Now what is this but an 
evident preparation for after years ? These relations are designed 
by Providence to give character to the child, and to fit it for the 
still larger circles of life, and to teach it, by degrees, to regard all 
men as members of the same family, where sympathy, and love, 
and beneficence may find new objects and more enlarged exer- 
cise. To entertain affections other than kindly is, then, contrary 
to the earliest and most natural lessons instilled into our minds. 

Further, this rule is suited to man as a social being, because he 



Chap. I.] FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 377 

is hereby called to cherish and exhibit those affections towards 
others, which he daily needs that they should cherish and exhibit 
towards himself. Were we ourselves wholly free from the same 
condemnation, in which we include evil-doers, we might, with 
more propriety, ascend the tribunal of justice, and administer 
punishment to those who do us wrong. But where is the man 
living, who is not conscious of having, at some time of his life, in 
some way, injured a fellow-man ? We may examine the whole 
human family, and find, if we can, one, who, neither by thought, 
nor word, nor act, has injured another. Surely, then, the recol- 
lection of our own faults ought to inspire us with the spirit of for- 
giveness when injured by others. For by condemning others we 
condemn ourselves. 

2. Again, who is this that would return evil for evil ? Is he 
not a sinful being ? Has he not, in a variety of ways, and under 
the most aggravated circumstances, returned evil for good to the 
very God who made him and sustains him ? Is he not daily in- 
debted for all his enjoyments to a disposition on the part of his 
Maker, directly the reverse of his own ? Is not God himself 
seeking to overcome evil with good, sending his rain, his sun- 
shine, his seed-time and harvest, upon the just and the unjust ? 
Is it not owing to this forbearance, that the sword of Divine 
justice still slumbers in its sheath, that the sun shines bright upon 
his path, that the earth and its flowers, the sky and the stars 
which spangle and adorn it, look fair and beautiful to him ? 
Especially, what, but the love of the God whom he is daily of- 
fending, warns him, and pleads with him, and points him to the 
merits of a Saviour, and the salvation which he has purchased for 
him ? Is it, then, for man, sinful man, to return evil for evil to 
his fellow-man ? 

3. As a being responsible for his actions, and destined to an 
immortal existence beyond the grave. The heart, that is now 
swelling with anger, will soon be laid in the dust. The lips, that 
are now uttering imprecations and quivering with vengeance, will 
soon be sealed in the silence of death. Shall he indulge feelings 
of resentment, whose body is hastening to the grave, and whose 
soul to the bar of his Judge ? Let him call to remembrance the 
parable of the servant, who, although indebted to his lord ten 

48 



378 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

thousand talents, and forgiven all that debt, yet laid hands on his 
fellow-servant for an hundred pence, and cast him into prison. 
After sternly rebuking him for his hardness of heart and want of 
compassion, the sacred writer says, his lord cast him into prison 
until he should pay the debt. " So likewise," adds our Saviour, 
in conclusion, " shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye 
from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespass- 
es." * Again, St. Paul says, " Avenge not yourselves, but rather 
give place unto wrath ; for it is written, ' Vengeance is mine, I will 
repay, saith the Lord.' Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed 
him ; if he thirst, give him drink ; for in so doing thou shalt heap 
coals of fire on his head,"f that is, you will soften him, and dis- 
arm him of his vindictive feelings towards you. 

III. The Gospel rule of forgiveness is the only way by which 
a real and permanent victory over evil can be secured. We 
have seen that it is only by kindness that we can awaken kind- 
ness. By resentment and retaliation, we only call forth a repeti- 
tion of the evil, and most probably, too, increased in bitterness. 
If we continue to act on the same principle, the evil must be 
again returned, and again received with the increase, until at 
length it must result in some appalling outrage. Trifling injuries 
have often ended in scenes of blood ; slight resentment has grown 
into hatred, and hatred into burning vengeance. But, by return- 
ing good for evil, we subdue the heart. This is a real conquest. 
We may, indeed, if we have superior power, bring the body into 
subjection, but the mind remains unvanquished. We may load 
an enemy with chains, but he is our enemy still ; we may immure 
him in a dungeon, but even there his heart is meditating revenge. 
We may, by authority or force, compel one who has injured us to 
repair the wrong, or to suffer for it ; but this will not make him 
our friend. Had he power and opportunity, he would repeat the 
evil. But if we pursue the course prescribed by the rule of for- 
giveness, we subdue the heart, gain a conquest over the whole 
man, and convert an enemy into a friend. And this conquest 
will be permanent. It has been achieved, not by physical power, 
but by a moral power, which has penetrated the inmost soul, and 
called forth, in our favor, the nobler feelings of its nature. 

* Matt, xviii. 23-35. t Romans xii. 19,20. 



Chap. I.] FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 379 

IV. The intrinsic nobleness of the rule of forgiveness and 
good-will is worthy of further and distinct consideration. It 
admits that wrong has been done, and addresses itself to the party 
who has suffered it. It says, Be not overcome by that wrong, 
that is, yield not to feelings of anger or vengeance, let not un- 
kindness on the part of others awaken unkind feelings in your 
own breast towards them, return not insult for insult, injury for 
injury. Pursue an entirely opposite course ; return friendly ser- 
vices for unkindness, blessings for insults, and beneficence for 
injury. 

" Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good." 
To rise above the impulses of a fallen nature, to conquer the evil 
passions, first in our own breasts, and then in those of others, is 
indeed a victory. It is implied by the rule, that the contest is at 
first defensive; u Be not overcome of evil,'''' We must repel 
aggression by preserving a calm, tranquil, and benevolent state of 
mind, and its force will soon be exhausted. And then we must 
act upon the offensive ; " we must overcome evil with good. 1 '' 
By heaping benefits upon the aggressor, we shall subdue his heart, 
win his regard, and render it impossible for him to do us injury. 
But this is not the consummation of the victory ; it extends much 
further. By such a course, we learn to live and act as spiritual 
and immortal beings. We feel that it is not in the power of 
others to injure us, we can only injure ourselves. We arm our- 
selves with a panoply impenetrable. And the voice of conscience, 
too, assures us, that we are at peace with Him who alone has 
power to hurt and to destroy. " If our heart (conscience) con- 
demn us not, then have we confidence toward God." * 

To prevent all misunderstanding, I subjoin two or three quali- 
fications of the principle and line of conduct, which have just 
been discussed and recommended. 

1 . We are not required to put ourselves in the power of our 
enemies ; that is, of our own accord, to put it within their power 
to injure us. Not only so ; we are to use all rightful means to 
protect ourselves from injury and wrong. We may, on suitable 
occasions, and in a suitable spirit, too, resort for redress to the 

* 1 John iii. 21. 



380 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

law of the land, and call the strong arm of civil government 
to our aid. While we conform to the rule of forgiveness, and 
"overcome evil with good," we are to retain prudence, circum- 
spection, and a just self-regard. 

2. An undistinguishing beneficence to men, whether friendly 
or inimical to us, is enjoined upon us neither by Scripture nor 
by right reason. We are to do good to all, but more especially 
to some, according to their differing merits, claims, circum- 
stances, necessities, and connexion with ourselves. 

3. It is by no means inconsistent with the rule of forgiveness, 
nor with the duty of " overcoming evil with good," that we should 
feel disapprobation of the evil and of its author. The rule sim- 
ply prescribes the course to be pursued towards those who are 
guilty of the evil. Great compassion and kindness towards a 
drunkard, for instance, are by no means incompatible with entire 
disapprobation of him and his ways. Neither is disapprobation 
of the conduct of those, who do us wrong, incompatible with 
kindness towards them. On the contrary, it is this very disappro- 
bation which is to awaken our good-will, and to induce us to 
adopt that course which is best calculated to produce a reforma- 
tion in those who have done the wrong. Philosophy has taught 
us many excellent lessons, but this rule is unknown to the philos- 
ophy of Aristotle, of Socrates, of Plato, and of Cicero. * 

* This Chapter is much indebted to the " American Advocate of Peace," 
Vol.1, pp. 317-324. Art. III. which, partly by abridgment, partly by ampli- 
fication, and other changes, the author has converted to his purpose. His 
attention was drawn to it by a friend, who has manifested much interest in 
his undertaking. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 381 



CHAPTER II. 

CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 

St. Paul not only calls charity " the bond of perfectness," 
and declares it to be " the fulfilling of the law" ; but he assigns 
it a rank even higher than " faith , which is the substance of 
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen," and the 
" Aope, that maketh not ashamed, and is an anchor of the soul 
both sure and steadfast." * Again, he says, " Charity sufTereth 
long and is kind ; charity envieth not, charity vaunteth not itself, 
is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not 
her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not 
in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things, believeth 
all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity," 
continues he, "never faileth ; but whether there be prophecies, 
they shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; 
whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. And now 
abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the greatest of these 
is charity." Moreover, he declares that the gift of tongues used 
by men and angels, the privilege of prophecy, universal knowl- 
edge of things human and divine, almsgiving to the exhaustion of 
our entire estates, and even the merit of submitting to martyrdom, 
by being burned for the truth and honor of our religion, without 
charity, are nothing worth. f And, in the summary of the com- 
mandments made by Christ himself, the love of our neighbour 
is placed immediately after love to God, and is made inferior 
\to this supreme duty only. Charity, then, is the distinguishing 
grace of the true Christian, the crowning glory of the Christian 
profession ; and this preeminence given to it, over all other 
Christian duties except love to God, will fully justify me in 
analyzing it with precision, if possible, and illustrating it in all its 
branches. This may be done most conveniently under three 

* Colos. iii. 14 ; Rom. v. 5 ; xiii. 3- 10 : Heb. vi. 19 ; xi. 1. t 1 Cor. xiii. 



382 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

divisions. I. The chief particulars in which this duty consists. 
II. The chief cases in which it is violated. III. The limita- 
tions and qualifications applicable to the subject, and useful to 
guard against misunderstanding. 

I. Christian charity consists of several particulars. 

1. It requires a conscientious regard to the temporal wants 
and interests of mankind. That branch of Christian charity, 
however, which consists in pecuniary relief administered to the 
poor, and which is appropriately called almsgiving, has been so 
fully discussed, that it will not be enlarged upon in this connex- 
ion.* The temporal welfare and interests of mankind consist 
not merely, nor principally, in the pecuniary acquisitions with 
which their industry and skill may be rewarded, but much more, 
and in a much higher sense, in their intellectual and moral cul- 
ture, in the enlargement of their knowledge, the preservation of 
their health, in the habits which they acquire, and in personal 
comfort and improvement of every kind. Charity requires us 
to wish well to others, in all these respects, and to contribute to 
their attainment, as occasion and opportunity are presented. In 
these ways, and in reference to these objects, we may often be 
of the most essential service to others, without any disservice or 
even inconvenience to ourselves. 

A single suggestion or remark thrown out, in the course of 
conversation, by a person thoroughly intent on being useful to 
others, in regard to health, moral habits, education, or the cul- 
ture of the understanding, has sometimes proved to be ultimately 
of more value, than the bestowing of thousands of gold and silver. 
How much do they contribute to the temporal welfare, and in- 
terests of mankind, who are instrumental in establishing institu- 
tions to promote education and good moral habits in the commu- 
nity to which they belong ? It is not extravagant to say, that 
those who originated, and have urged onward, the temperance 
reformation in this country, influenced by that charity, which 
does not selfishly seek her own, have contributed to the highest 
temporal welfare (to omit all mention of their eternal interests) 
of hundreds of thousands of their countrymen thus far ; and, if they 



See above, pp. 233-255. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 383 

shall fully accomplish their enterprise, it is not too much to say, 
that they will benefit, in the highest sense and degree, the es- 
tates, the health, the habits, and the morals of millions of this and 
the coming generations. What charity has ever been more dis- 
interested in its origin, comprehensive in its aim, noble in its 
object, or exalted in its purpose, than this ? What numbers 
might have been saved to themselves, to their families, and to 
society, if this enterprise of charity had been undertaken earlier 
by half a century ? The same observations apply, with no di- 
minished force, to the modern system of Sunday School in- 
struction, one of the most unostentatious, but effectual ways of 
benefiting mankind, that have ever been devised in any age or 
in any country. No charity is more pure and elevated in its 
nature, more free from all possible objections, more fruitful in its 
consequences, or more encouraging in its returns of good, than 
gratuitous instruction. Many thousands of instructers, influenced 
by the love of God and mankind, are now imparting the first 
elements of education to hundreds of thousands of children, and 
are thus training up multitudes to be useful and respectable in 
life, who might otherwise, in all probability, be lost to themselves 
and to society. It would not be difficult to refer to other va- 
rieties of that branch of charity which respects the temporal 
welfare and interests of mankind, if my limits permitted. 

2. Christian charity requires a sacred regard to the spiritual 
and eternal interests of our fellow-men. To aid in the dissemi- 
nation of our pure and holy religion, among all estates and orders 
of men, not only in our own country, but throughout the earth, 
is one of the highest and most indispensable duties of every 
Christian. Religious instruction is a privilege, which multitudes 
in this and many other countries cannot procure for themselves ; 
it must, therefore, be provided for them by those, who are sensi- 
ble of the blessings which Christianity alone can confer, and are 
impressed with the importance and the duty of imparting Chris- 
tian instruction to all those who do not, and without their aid 
cannot, enjoy its benefits. Hunger and thirst must be satisfied 
at all events, and those, who feel their pain, will be sure, in one 
way or another, to find the means of satisfying their cravings ; 
but religion, although equally the highest duty and the highest 



384 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

interest of all men, is not usually felt by the many to be one of 
those immediate and pressing wants which cannot be neglected. 

Many have lived, and many continue to live, in utter neglect 
of religion. The more, and the longer, too, men live in the 
neglect of religious duty, and without the benefit of religious in- 
struction, the less inclined are they to seek its privileges and esti- 
mate their value. By long habits of inattention, neglect, and in- 
difference, men may become entirely insensible to the claims of 
religion, and may live and die almost as regardless of the con- 
cerns of the life to come, as the beasts that perish. This is 
true of no very small number who live in Christian lands, and 
must be almost universally true of those countries, which still sit 
in u ihe shadow and darkness" of false religion. No Christian, 
alive to the destination which awaits all men beyond the grave, 
who believes that there is a heaven of infinite and unchangeable 
happiness, and a hell of infinite and never-ending despair, can 
suppose his duty suitably performed, when he leaves men to pro- 
ceed thus on the broad road to destruction, without making a 
single effort to save them from the end to which they are inev- 
itably advancing. It is no sufficient ground on which to excuse 
ourselves from performing this duty, that persons in this situation 
are insensible to their danger. If our houses were burning over 
us, we should not be the less entitled to commiseration and re- 
lief, because we might be weighed down by the slumbers of mid- 
night, and insensible to the danger impending over us. In such 
circumstances, it would be the height of cruelty to refuse or 
neglect to rouse and rescue us from the falling ruins of our con- 
suming dwellings. No breach of charity can be so great, as to 
refuse to listen to the spiritual necessities, and consult the spiritual 
interests, of mankind. 

3. Christian charity requires us to manifest a suitable and con- 
scientious regard to the reputation of others. An established 
character for prudence, sound discretion, and good judgment 
and integrity, joined with suitable acquirements and skill in the 
walk of life which we have chosen to pursue, can only be ob- 
tained by long and painful efforts, and by persevering labor in 
acquiring those habits of mind and capacities for action, which 
are indispensable to usefulness. Difficult of attainment originally, 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 385 

reputation is equally difficult of preservation when it is attained. 
Unlike the possession of tangible property, which rests on a 
stable title, and is effectually protected by the law of the country, 
reputation is a possession which floats on the slight and airy 
foundation of public opinion and popular favor ; and is, therefore, 
subject to the fluctuations of the uncertain element by which it is 
upborne. It is more valuable than any thing else which we can 
call our own. Still it is perhaps the most insecure of all human 
possessions. Frail in its foundation, slight in its structure, and 
delicate in its materials, it is peculiarly exposed to be injured by 
secret insinuations, and to be blasted by the poisoned shafts of 
misrepresentation and slander. 

There are certain classes of persons, who, by reason of sex, 
profession, or other peculiar circumstances in their condition, 
occupy a position in society so delicate, that the very breath of 
suspicion is absolute and perhaps irremediable ruin to all their 
prospects. To their usefulness and happiness it is indispensa- 
ble, that their characters be, not only without just ground of 
reproach, but that they be equally above suspicion and above 
imputation. Such classes of persons are peculiarly exposed to 
the arts of the disingenuous, the malicious, and the vindictive. 
Forming their designs in secret, their attacks are unseen and un- 
known by the victim against whom they aim. Such practices 
are the very height of both injustice and cruelty. Of injustice, 
since the victim is accused, he knows not by whom, tried, he 
knows not when, and condemned, he knows not for what cause ; 
— of cruelty, because his dearest possessions are taken from him 
without a crime and by an unseen hand. In this way, hundreds 
have found public confidence and respect, and even the attach- 
ment of their friends, gradually and silently withdrawn from them 
without any fault of theirs, to the ruin or lasting injury of them- 
selves and all who were depending on them. Before we permit 
ourselves to assail the reputation of others by misrepresentation 
and calumny, or to undermine them by imputation and slander, 
we may well reflect on the value of the possession which we are 
so willing to destroy. An ordinary self-interest, if any are inac- 
cessible to higher motives, might induce them to abstain from 
undermining the reputation of others by secret means, inasmuch 

49 



386 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

as they are themselves exposed to a merciless retaliation through 
the same means, the use of which they have sanctioned by their 
practice. 

It is to little purpose, that we live in a land where property is 
rendered secure by the authority of law, where civil freedom is 
established by the most perfect safeguards, and where equality of 
legal rights is fully acknowledged, if we may not rely on the 
society in which we live to secure us, by its sense of justice and 
rectitude, in the undisturbed enjoyment of our reputation ; a 
treasure infinitely more dear than our wealth, or even our civil 
freedom, and which, as our great dramatic poet says, without 
enriching him who takes it away, makes us poor in a sense and 
in a degree in which we can otherwise never be poor. And 
although we may well believe, that in the end, according to the 
Divine promise, that " light will arise to the upright in darkness," 
that u the righteousness of the upright will deliver them," that 
"to him that soweth righteousness, shall be a sure reward," and 
that " their righteousness shall eventually go forth as bright- 
ness," * still the brightness of the most shining character may long 
be obscured by the storms and mists of evil surmisings, misrep- 
resentations, and slander. 

4. Christian charity requires not only a regard to the temporal 
and spiritual welfare, and to the characters of others, but also a 
conscientious respect for their feelings. In uncivilized countries 
and among rude nations, irregular and precarious supplies of food, 
scantiness of clothing, and exposure to the inclemencies of the 
sun and of the storm, constitute the principal sources of suffer- 
ing. Accustomed from infancy to physical hardships of every 
name and degree, all the more gentle emotions which dignify and 
adorn human nature, are extinguished in the stern and revengeful pas- 
sions which agitate the breasts of savages and barbarians; and those 
refined feelings and sensibilities, which give the principal charm 
to cultivated life, are unknown to them, and consequently under- 
valued by them. If they are relieved from the pains of hunger, 
thirst, and exposure, if the strength of their arm is acknowledged, 
and their patience under torture, and their courage in the hour of 

* Psalm cxii. 4; Prov. xi. 6, 18 ; Isaiah lxii. 1. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 387 

danger, are unquestioned, they enjoy all the happiness which is 
known to their state of life. As society advances, agriculture 
is improved, the arts and sciences flourish, manufactures are in- 
vented, commerce is introduced, and physical suffering disappears, 
or is greatly diminished. In the progress of these advances, the 
feelings become refined, the sensibilities become cultivated, and, 
as physical suffering diminishes, these feelings and these sensi- 
bilities become sources of suffering in their turn. In the present 
state of the arts of industry, cases must be very rare, in which 
any one seriously surfers from hunger, thirst, scanty raiment, or 
exposure to the elements ; but cases cannot be uncommon in 
which men suffer very severely by having their feelings and sen- 
sibilities injured. 

Hence, it may be as great an offence against Christian charity 
in one age, in one country, and in one state of society, unneces- 
sarily to wound the feelings and sensibilities of others, as it is 
in another age, another country, and another state of society, to 
withhold the means of satisfying hunger and thirst, and of sup- 
plying raiment and protection from exposure to the elements. 
An unkind look, a harsh expression, an ungenerous imputation, 
often causes severe pain. There must be many, to whom unkind 
suspicions, unfeeling witticisms, and unmerited sarcasms, have 
given more pain, than hunger, thirst, and exposure, during their 
entire lives. Malicious persons know this, and never fail to 
direct their shafts where they will inflict the most acute pain. 
With the temper which they indulge, it is not strange they 
should do this ; it is the most effectual of all ways, to render 
all around them unhappy. Such dispositions, however, in the 
order of Providence, are never permitted to go unpunished ; 
their punishment, unlike that of some other offences, is not 
even delayed for a season ; the very indulgence of such a tem- 
per is a most severe retributive punishment. Who has not suf- 
fered from the outbreakings of this cruel temper ? Who has 
not been guilty of visiting others with its inflictions ? Some 
persons habitually or occasionally do this, who would consider 
themselves much injured by the charge, that they live in the ha- 
bitual or frequent violation of Christian charity. Still, who can 
doubt, that the charge is, with the utmost justice, fixed upon 
them ? 



388 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

The truth is, that all pain given to others, which neither 
answers any good end, nor was designed to answer such end, is 
a breach of that charity, which, as St. Paul says, is uniformly 
kind, — ■ kind in her looks, kind in her expressions, kind in her 
sympathies, kind in her intentions, and kind in all her conduct. 
How many families must there be in every community, which 
are in circumstances to enjoy all the happiness that can belong to 
this life, but which are rendered comparatively unhappy by the 
prevailing absence of this law of kindness ? How many must 
there be in subordinate situations of every kind, whose allot- 
ments in life are of themselves sufficiently humiliating, and who 
are in this way deprived of much of the small remnant of hap- 
piness, which they might otherwise enjoy. And when we reflect 
how large a part of mankind must spend all or most of their lives 
in the inferior stations, which law, custom, or the rules of society 
have assigned them, we may form some imperfect estimate of 
the value of that charity, which is habitually and always kind, and 
which ought, as a principle of duty, to be practised by parents, 
instructors, masters, and all other superiors, whose will (discre- 
tion) is and must be, in a great measure, the law to which those, 
who are subordinate to them, are subjected, 

5. This duty comprises a suitable regard to the civilities, pro- 
prieties, and courtesies of life. This is the meaning of St. 
Paul, when he says, " Charity doth not behave itself unseemly," 
unbecomingly, or indecorously. And he enjoins the same thing, 
when he says again, u Let all things be done decently (decor- 
ously) and in order." * And St. Peter, exhorting Christians to 
love as brethren, adds the injunction, u Be pitiful, be cour- 
teous." f The manner of St. Paul, towards the magistrates and 
others whom he had occasion to address, was always decorous 
and respectful. J " Honor all men," § is another injunction of 
St. Peter upon all Christians ; and the courteous treatment, 
shown to St. Paul, by Julius and Publius, on his voyage to 
Rome, is specially noticed by the sacred historian. | When 
this branch of the subject, therefore, has been commended to our 

* 1 Cor. xiv. 40. 1 1 Peter iii. 8. 

t Acts xxi. 39; xxii. 1 -21 ; xxvi. 1-29. 
§ 1 Peter ii. 17. j| Acts xxvii. 3. xxviii. 7. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 389 

notice by Holy Writ, and has been thought worthy of special 
precepts to secure its observance, we cannot refuse to acknowl- 
edge, that it is entitled to our regard. No one will say, that such 
observances are not a part of Christian duty, when they have 
claimed the attention of inspired men. The illustration of an 
old writer is pertinent and well worth transcribing. " By good 
manners," says he, u I do not mean an insignificant punctuality, 
and a frivolous exactness in the observation of little ceremonies ; I 
mean something of a higher nature ; I mean an assemblage of 
moral virtues expressed in an outward demeanor ; a combination 
of discretion, circumspection, and civility, submission to our su- 
periors, condescension to our inferiors, and affability to all ; 
more especially a strict regard to decency (decorum) in all our 
actions. For the rules of decency (decorum) are the very out- 
works of respect, and, when they are once broken through, the 
rest will soon be delivered up as an easy prey ; and affection is 
oftener lost by little violations of the rules of decorum, than by 
any scandalous and enormous faults." * 

The truth is, that all human intercourse, of whatever kind, 
must be made to conform to conventional rules ; and these rules 
constitute the civilities, proprieties, courtesies, and other observ- 
ances not strictly of a moral kind, the disregard of which, how- 
ever, St. Paul says, is unseemly in a Christian. No one needs 
to be informed how much the asperities of life are softened, and 
its happiness promoted, by a due regard to these observances ; 
or how much unhappiness and how many serious evils spring 
from the neglect and disregard of them, among those who are 
required by situation, by duty, and by circumstances to maintain 
frequent or habitual intercourse with one another. How many 
heart-burnings, how much coldness and jealousy, ripening too 
often into open enmities and strife, are prevented by their ob- 
servance ? In the intercourse of husband and wife, parent and 
child, friend with friend, and even master and servant, small com- 
pliances, cheerful accommodation to particular wishes, prepos- 
sessions, and even prejudices in minor concerns ; small sacrifices 
of personal inclination, practices and attentions costing very little 



* Rev. Jeremiah Seed's Sermons, Vol. I. p. 59. London. 1742. 



390 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

in themselves ; deferences and concessions of slight importance 
in the sum of happiness and comfort , may serve to establish and 
maintain ties and relative positions of the greatest consequence to 
the parties, to perpetuate mutual affections and duties, and the 
general cordiality, exemplariness, and prosperity of families. To 
this end, it is even of minor importance how far the desire, tem- 
per, or predilection to be complied with, may be reasonable or 
otherwise, provided it is not in itself wrong. In all these things, 
sound views of human life and intercourse require unhesitating, 
uncritical, gracious assent, — at times, studious and watchful an- 
ticipation. u Bear ye one another's burthens" says St. Paul, 
" and so fulfil the law of Christ," * where commentators inter- 
pret u burthens " to mean the errors and failings of each other. 
But the positive beneficial results of small compliances, how- 
ever great, are not of so serious magnitude, as the mischiefs 
which the neglect of them usually produces. It prevents the 
mutual favors and endearments, which sweeten and brighten social 
and domestic life ; it exasperates petty and accidental griefs and 
dissatisfactions into general discomfort and aversion ; it gradually 
embitters and estranges those who would else be tenderly, close- 
ly, and profitably united. When this neglect does not occasion 
total rupture and estrangement, it renders necessary intercourse 
painful in an increasing degree, and obstructs the salutary influ- 
ence of essential merits and obligations on one side or the other. 
How many, who have stood and who continue to stand in the va- 
rious relations to which I have adverted, feel how much they 
have lost or gained by their conduct in the point of small com- 
pliances. The number is considerable, indeed, of husbands, 
wives, children, and friends, who have thriven or failed in their 
whole lives according to their conduct in this respect, whose hap- 
piness, respectability, final conscience and destiny have been 
thus deeply affected or entirely determined. The heaviest evils 
have befallen them, which could never be repaired ; regrets and 
remorse have been felt, which circumstances rendered perpetual 
and constantly active. And the aspect of the evil becomes 
much worse, when it is the case of individuals who have the 
strongest claims, from nature, religion, and general beneficence, 

* Gal. vi. 2. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 391 

upon duty, gratitude, and voluntary service. Small irritations in 
the bodily frame fester and grow, by frequent attrition or neglect, 
into mortal distempers. So it is in the order and economy of 
domestic and social life. We must watch the beginnings, and 
not despise the trifles, of human life and intercourse. It will not 
suffice to say, that, because these are small duties, they may be 
safely neglected by a Christian. A Christian is to fulfil the " law 
of Christ " by the performance of all duties, small as well as great. 
And no duty, however small, can be considered without its im- 
portance, which materially contributes to the happiness of indi- 
viduals and families, and to the peace and harmony of society. 

6. An eminently patient, calm, peaceable, conciliating, for- 
bearing, unassuming temper and conduct form an essential part 
of the great duty of Christian charity. St. Paul says, " Charity 
is not easily provoked, vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up ; but 
beareth all things, endureth all things." To live amidst the con- 
flicts of opinion, interest, and principle which prevail around us, 
and preserve a temper at all times calm and unclouded, is a task 
as difficult, as it is necessary to adorn the doctrine of that Saviour, 
whose perfections are the object of our admiration, as his exam- 
ple is of our imitation. Provocations will sometimes inevitably 
arise in our intercourse with others, by which our patience, mod- 
eration, and forbearance will be put to a severe proof. They 
are, perhaps, inseparable from our present imperfect state, and 
may be believed to be designed by a wise Providence, to make 
trial of the spirit that reigns within us, and as a part of that sys- 
tem of discipline by which we are to be made wise unto salvation. 

No one of our passions is more impatient of restraint, more 
violent in its impulses, more unhappy in its consequences, and, 
therefore, more destructive of that charity which is the crowning 
glory of the Christian profession, than anger. When retained 
and willingly cherished in our breasts, it becomes resentment ; and, 
if still continued and harboured as a guest, it gradually comes to 
assume the still more dreadful forms of settled hatred, malice, and 
revenge. Well may we habitually pray for deliverance " from 
envy, hatred, and malice, and all uncharitableness." Unhappy, 
indeed, will our case be, if we cherish these formidable inmates 
in our breasts. In compassion to our infirmities, God has not 



392 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

required of us never to be angry, but he has required of us not 
to be angry from slight causes ; and he has unequivocally forbid- 
den the indulgence of all wilfully cherished, and especially all 
long-continued anger. " Be ye angry and sin not ; let not the sun 
go down upon your wrath." # We are required to forgive an 
offence " until seventy times seven," if the offender manifests 
regret, and a disposition not to repeat the offence. 

In view of the destructive effects which spring from anger, 
our Saviour has made him, who offers the first provocation^ prin- 
cipally responsible for the consequences which may result. He 
declares, that whoever shall use harsh and irritating language, 
" shall be in danger of the council, and even of hell-fire." f And 
the reason for throwing the chief responsibility for whatever may 
ensue, on him who first offers provocation, is very plain. Every 
one, by a small effort of forbearance, can abstain from offering 
provocation to another; but, such is " the infirmity with which 
we are clothed," and such is the constitutional temperament 
with which men are formed, that many cannot be expected to 
remain unmoved and undisturbed, when assailed by strong provo- 
cation. The distinction is made by him who u knew perfectly 
what was in man," J and who has suited his instructions, in all 
respects, to the nature, the wants, the circumstances, and even 
the infirmities of mankind. 

II. I proceed to review the chief cases in which Christian 
charity is violated. 

1. This duty is violated, when we permit ourselves to indulge 
in unjust, unreasonable, and injurious suspicions of the feelings, 
motives, wishes, and designs of others respecting us. 

To give way to unfounded jealousies and suspicions of others, 
is alike unjust and injurious to them, and ruinous to our own 
peace and tranquillity of mind. Few passions are more debasing 
in their influence, than jealousy and suspicion. Like all other 
passions, too, they grow strong and craving by indulgence, until 
at length, ever- wakeful and ever-watchful, every look, expression, 
gesture, and action of others, is seen in the false and gloomy 
light, which these baleful passions throw around every object. 

* Ephesians iv. 26. t Matt. v. 22. \ John ii. 25. 



Chap. IJ.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY, 393 

In such a state of mind, every expression, and every action of 
others, is supposed to have a covert meaning, and this meaning 
is supposed to refer specially to ourselves. As the imagina- 
tion, the most active, the most restless, and the most fruitful of 
all our faculties, furnishes the materials on which these passions 
subsist, they can never be unsupplied with their appropriate sus- 
tenance, and this sustenance, as plentiful as its source is inex- 
haustible, can never be consumed. If this state of the feelings is 
permitted to become habitual, the best affections of the heart are 
gradually extinguished, the most degrading selfishness is har- 
boured, the sensibilities become paralyzed, the sympathies are 
narrowed, the temper becomes gloomy, stern, and perhaps vin- 
dictive ; the entire aspect of the man is settled gloom and disap- 
pointment ; the understanding, laboring under the pressure of these 
accumulated and uncongenial burthens, loses its wonted strength 
and energy, and the entire character is changed, infected, and, 
in regard to all the useful purposes of life, is fallen into ruins. 

Nor is this all. The man of a suspicious temper soon comes 
into the habit of seeing nothing just, amiable, or attractive, in 
the conduct and characters of those around him. Feeling him- 
self unsocial and suspicious towards all other men, and prompted 
by a distorted imagination, ever more and more fruitful in evil 
surmises, he perceives nothing in the conduct of those about 
him, but proofs of motives, feelings, wishes, and intentions, un- 
friendly to him, his family, his reputation, and his interests. 

Nor is even this all, strong as may be the picture which has 
been drawn. It has been remarked by close and careful ob- 
servers of mankind, that habitual jealousy and suspicion of others, 
joined with an impression, however unfounded and imaginary, 
that others are unfriendly to us, have a direct and almost inevit- 
able tendency to render them such, if they were not such before. 
There is unquestionably much foundation for this remark, and it 
is not difficult to explain why it is thus. In our intercourse 
with others, however much we may be accustomed to practise 
disguise, it is impossible entirely to conceal our feelings from 
them ; and when our minds are habitually infected with ungen- 
erous suspicions, unfounded jealousies, and the host of dark pas- 
sions which are always their offspring, it is inevitable that these 
50 



394 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI 

passions should be seen through any disguise which it may be in 
our power to assume , and that, being thus seen, they should pro- 
duce coldness, alienation, and disgust, in those with whom we 
may meet occasionally, or with whom we may be accustomed 
familiarly to associate. In this way, many men, in every com- 
munity, have gradually found themselves, without expecting, 
much less intending, such a result, at variance with every neigh- 
bour, and, perhaps every relative, solitary in the midst of a vir- 
tuous and cultivated society, consumed and destroyed by jealousy 
and suspicion, which (instead of banishing when they felt its 
first risings) they have unhappily, unwisely, nay, criminally per- 
mitted themselves to entertain, foster, and cherish. "Jealousy," 
says the wisest of men, " is cruel as the grave ; the coals 
thereof are coals of fire." * These burning coals of jealousy 
and suspicion will consume the breast of every one, who does 
not smother them at their first kindling. And when we consider 
the animosities, bitterness, and strife, which frequently infest 
neighbourhoods, and sometimes divide and distract even members 
of the same family, and when we further reflect, that these open 
enmities usually have their beginning in jealousy and suspicion, 
we may understand the importance of the rule of Christian char- 
ity, which forbids us to indulge in jealousies and suspicions of 
the motives and designs of our relatives, associates, and neigh- 
bours. 

It is our duty towards others, and it is the only line of con- 
duct consistent with our own happiness, to presume, that the 
feelings and designs of others respecting us are such as we 
could wish them to be, until the contrary unequivocally appears. 
In truth, if we assume this as the rule of our conduct, we shall 
not often find ourselves disappointed in the result. Men will 
not often be wanting in regard for us, if we have not, in some 
way, been first wanting to ourselves. It is probable, that there 
is no one cause of a suspicious temper so frequent, as a secret 
conviction, that every thing is not with us, as we are conscious 
it should be. And, if we find ourselves very much given to 
jealousy and suspicion, it may be well for us to examine our 

* Cant. viii. 6. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY 395 

conduct strictly, and see if some part of it has not been such, as 
justly to raise in us some misgivings, that our suspicious temper 
may have its origin in a consciousness of misconduct. At all 
events, it is better, a thousand times, to be occasionally and even 
frequently mistaken in respect to others, and even deceived by 
them, than to permit our breasts to be made the seat of such 
painful, corroding, and debasing passions. 

2. Again, this duty is violated, when we attribute to improper 
motives and designs, actions and expressions, for which, with 
equal ease and entire consistency, good motives and good designs 
may be assigned. Much of the conduct and many of the ex- 
pressions, in use among men, are capable of more than one 
construction, according as they are set in different lights, and 
presented in different points of view. There is scarcely any 
transaction, however fair, which may not be misunderstood and 
misrepresented ; and scarcely any form of expression, the mean- 
ing of which may not be distorted and perverted by the all- 
transforming power of prejudice. 

Hence, occasions are perpetually occurring suited to test our 
candor, equity, and charity. Even in private life, but more 
especially on the great stage of public life, we habitually see the 
same line of conduct approved or condemned by those around 
us, according to the opinions they have formed, the predilections 
they entertain, the views they wish to promote, or the individ- 
uals they desire to advance. Parties spring up in literature, in 
science, in religion, in government, and on every other impor- 
tant subject. In such cases, we are accustomed to see men 
equal in respect to knowledge, and whose uprightness has been 
tested by a long life of virtue, and perhaps of piety, not only 
differing, but, indeed, embracing directly opposite views of truth 
and duty. To what can such differences, thus amounting some- 
times to contrast, be ascribed, but to the influence of prejudice, 
interest, and passion over the minds even of those men, whose 
aims are sincere, and whose intentions are upright ? When 
such men fall into injurious errors and mistakes, misled by the 
force of prejudice and passion, well may we acknowledge the 
claims of the rule and adhere to it on all occasions, which re- 



396 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

quires us to ascribe the conduct of others to the best motives 
and the best designs of which they are susceptible. 

Every neighbourhood has its divisions arising from differences 
of opinion, of principle, of interest, and of personal attachment 
and preference. The spirit which influences and directs all such 
divisions, of whatever kind and of whatever name they may be, 
is essentially the same. In each and every case, the opposers of 
an individual can see, in his motives and conduct, nothing which 
is not improper and worthy of reprehension ; while his partisans 
see, in the motives and conduct of the same individual, nothing 
which is not pure and praiseworthy. Manifold illustrations of 
this kind are seen in the history of every country, and even in 
the small transactions of every district and neighbourhood. This 
is one of the ways, by which misunderstandings are encouraged, 
animosities spring up, the freedom and cordiality of private inter- 
course are disturbed, and the general peace and tranquillity are 
put at hazard. It is not necessary to say, that all this is in direct 
contradiction to the spirit and letter of that Christian charity, 
which, as St. Paul says, "thinketh no evil" of others. * It is 
equally contrary to the golden rule " of doing to others, that 
which, in like circumstances, we could wish them to do to us." 
It is, moreover, at variance with right reason. All these require 
us to ascribe to others good motives and good designs, when such 
motives and such designs are not manifestly inconsistent with their 
language and conduct. If this equitable rule, equally enjoined by 
Christianity and right reason, were generally practised, how much 
of the public and private conduct of many individuals would be 
approved, which, under the distorting influence of prejudice, pas- 
sion, and interest, is condemned in the most reproachful terms ? 
Human motives and designs are known to us only by conjecture, 
except so far as we are made acquainted with them by the pro- 
fessions and actions of those to whom they are ascribed ; and, 
when they have explained their motives and designs, these ought 
to be admitted as true and genuine, unless they are at open and 
manifest variance with their conduct. Then, indeed, we have no 
choice left us ; since, when the professions of men convey one 

* 1 Corinthians xv, 5. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 397 

meaning, and their conduct another, the latter is and must be 
our authentic guide to a knowledge of their real motives and 
designs. 

3. Christian charity is violated, when we give a willing ear and 
an easy belief to whisperings, evil surmises, misrepresentations, 
slanders, calumnies, abuse, and invective against others. A free 
intercourse with others on easy and confidential terms is highly 
agreeable, instructive, and useful, and contributes essentially to 
the happiness and value of life itself. Intercourse of this valuable 
and profitable description is founded on a conviction of the good- 
will, justice, humanity, moderation, integrity, sound discretion, 
and rectitude of intention of the society in which we live ; and 
especially of the circle with which we associate. 

As mutual confidence is the bond of this intercourse so indis- 
pensable to the happiness and value of life ; any and every prac- 
tice, which tends to relax and destroy this great moral tie, must be 
highly injurious to the general tranquillity and welfare of mankind. 
It becomes, then, the common duty and interest of all, to unite 
in suppressing any practices which have a tendency to disturb the 
harmony of social intercourse, and to impair or destroy the ben- 
efits which it is fitted to confer on all. To infuse suspicions, to 
kindle or inflame controversies, to avert the favor and esteem of 
benefactors from those who are depending on them, to render 
those whom we dislike contemptible in the public opinion, are all 
offices of slander ; and, if the guilt of such practices is measured 
by the extent and severity of the suffering produced, the authors 
of such offences cannot fail to be esteemed highly criminal. The 
disguises under which slander is frequently conveyed, whether 
with injunctions of secrecy, in a whisper, under pretence of cau- 
tion, or with affected reluctance, are all so many aggravations of 
the offence, since they indicate more deliberation and design.* 

It would be the most effectual of all discouragements to the 
slanderer, to find persons generally or universally disinclined to 
listen to his conjectures, insinuations, and evil surmisings. The 
appetite for collecting and retailing slanderous news and tales is 
fed by the ready listening and apparent satisfaction, with which 



* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy, p. 164. 



398 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

such news and such tales are too often received. It may be well 
for us to recollect, that, when we give persons of this description 
our countenance and encouragement by listening to their narra- 
tives, and especially by manifesting an interest in them, we be- 
come ourselves, inasmuch as we give encouragement, participa- 
tors in this odious offence. 

4. This duty is still more violated, when we willingly give 
currency to such insinuations, slanders, and calumnies, without 
much or any inquiry into their truth, and without regard to the 
consequences of our conduct. The mischief of insinuations, 
slanders, and evil surmises would be comparatively small, if they 
could be arrested with their authors, and were not permitted to 
gain currency by repetition. 

The mistake is sometimes made, of supposing, that, while the 
guilt of the original slanderer and calumniator is distinct and pal- 
pable, the offence of those, who repeat their slanders in the ears 
of others, is small. But neither Scripture nor right reason re- 
cognises much distinction between these two cases. Slander 
sometimes proceeds from malice and sometimes from inconsider- 
ation ; and, as far as there is a difference of motive, a distinction 
may be drawn between the malicious and the inconsiderate slan- 
derer. It may be admitted, too, that the repetition of slander is 
less likely to proceed from malice, than the original invention of 
it. Still, since every man is responsible for the consequences of 
his expressions and actions, so far as he foresaw them, or might 
have foreseen them, and since the consequences of the invention 
and the repetition of slander are the same, the difference must be 
regarded as slight and unworthy of much attention. 

Accordingly the sacred writers regard tale-bearing as an of- 
fence of the same description with slander. As early as the 
time of Moses, neighbourhoods and societies had begun to be 
disturbed by slander and tale-bearing. He enjoins upon the He- 
brews, u Thou shalt not go up and down as a tale-bearer among 
thy people." # Again, " A whisperer separateth chief friends." f 
u Whoso privily slandereth his neighbour, him will I cut off." J 
And again, " Where there is no tale-bearer, the strife ceaseth." § 

* Lev. ix. 16. t Prov. xvi. 28. J Psalm ci. 5. § Prov. xxvi. 20. 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 399 

The cases are numerous, in which we consider the participators 
scarcely inferior in guilt to the original author and mover ; and in 
no instance, perhaps, can this principle be more justly applied, 
than in regard to the circulation of slander. It stirs up strife and 
sows the seeds of bitterness in villages and neighbourhoods 
otherwise peaceful ; renders long-standing enmities tenfold more 
rancorous ; scatters discord among those whose duty and interest 
require them to cultivate the best understanding ; and foments 
misunderstandings and quarrels, not seldom terminating in the 
destruction of life, and the overwhelming affliction of the most 
innocent and virtuous families. It was in reference to the evil 
springing from slander, in its various forms and degrees, of evil 
surmises, whisperings, insinuations, calumnies, and abuse, that 
Solomon said, " These six things doth the Lord hate ; yea, 
seven are an abomination unto Him ; a proud look, a lying 
tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, an heart that deviseth 
wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, 
a false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord 
among brethren." * Surely we must be convinced, that slander 
is a high offence against Christian charity, when it is ranked, on 
Divine authority, with falsehood, perjury, and murder. 

5. This duty is violated, when we give circulation to truths 
of a slanderous and abusive nature, if such circulation is not 
given from good motives, and for a justifiable purpose, f It 
has been sometimes supposed, that the circulation of truth 
cannot be slander, and it is perhaps natural for the unreflecting 
to make such a mistake as this. It may be admitted, that there 
is this distinction between truth and falsehood circulated with 
slanderous designs, that, while the former is simple slander, the 
latter combines the twofold offence of falsehood and slander. 
Still, as truth may be, and often has been, used for slanderous 
and malicious purposes, every statement, however true, which is 
made to the disadvantage of any person, when we have no good 
object and no justifiable end in view in making such statement, 
is slanderous. It may not be positively and unequivocally ma- 
licious, but it argues a criminal want of regard to the conse- 



* Proverbs vi. 16 - 19. J See above, p. 269. 



400 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

quences of our conduct, and a reckless indifference to human 
suffering and injury. There may unquestionably be a degree 
of levity, carelessness, and thoughtlessness, in regard to the 
circulation of truths of a slanderous nature, when no good object 
is designed by it, between which and malicious slander it would 
be difficult to draw any well-marked distinction. The effects 
are the same ; the difference in the motive cannot be very con- 
siderable. 

6. This duty is violated further, when we condemn persons 
whom we do not know, and customs and institutions, the charac- 
ter and reasons of which we do not understand. Any con- 
demnation of this kind must be on the ground of rank preju- 
dice. To permit ourselves to entertain prejudices against per- 
sons whom we do not know, and with whose merits or demerits 
we have had no suitable opportunity to become acquainted, is by 
no means uncommon, unjust and uncharitable as it unques- 
tionably is. We receive these unjust prejudices from those 
around us, and, instead of discarding them, as we ought, at once, 
we are too apt to permit them to fix themselves in our minds, 
and to judge and act under their influence. It is the rule of law, 
that every man shall be considered innocent, until he has been 
legally proved guilty of the offence alleged against him ; and we 
are accustomed to admire this rule for its spirit of justice and 
equity, and to rely on it as a safeguard. It is, in truth, the very 
perfection of justice and equity within the sphere of its rightful 
application. The spirit of this admirable rule may be trans- 
ferred to the present subject. Christian charity requires us to 
divest ourselves of all bias, prepossession, and prejudice, and par- 
ticularly of all aversion, disgust, and antipathy to others, for 
which we can give no good and satisfactory reasons. And, even 
in case the very best reasons exist for entertaining these feelings 
towards. any one, they ought to have reference to his character, 
and not to his person. 

So again, with respect to the customs and institutions with 
which we are not acquainted, and the reasons of which, therefore, 
we do not understand. To condemn such customs and institu- 
tions without understanding them is alike narrow-minded and 
uncharitable. The fair presumption always is, that the customs 



Chap. II.] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 401 

and institutions of every country are suited to the wants and the 
convenience of such country, and, therefore, they are not a just 
subject either of ridicule or reproach. There may be very good 
reasons for them, originating in the climate, state of society, or 
other circumstances which we may not understand. It may be 
affirmed further, that there are few institutions in any country, 
which, when the reasons of them are carefully inquired into, and 
candidly weighed, will not be found to be justified by those 
reasons. This may be illustrated by adverting to the different 
forms of government which have prevailed in the world. Gov- 
ernment is one of the chief institutions, which men have labored 
to establish and bring to perfection. No one form is suited to 
the condition of all nations ; every nation is entitled to select its 
own form ; and it may well be presumed, that every nation has 
in fact selected the form best suited to its wants and circum- 
stances. This is the ground taken by the Divine author of 
Christianity. Our Saviour rendered to Caesar the things that 
belonged to Caesar,* and both St. Paul and St. Peter inculcate 
upon all Christians obedience and respect to the governments 
under which they live.f 

Indeed, I believe it will be found upon examination, that our 
Saviour, his Apostles, and other early preachers of Christianity, 
uniformly paid respect to the customs and institutions, both of the 
Jews and heathen, to whom they addressed themselves, except 
so far as those customs and institutions were inconsistent with 
the religion which they preached, and the morals which were an 
essential part of this religion. On these great subjects, indeed, 
they were inflexible, — on them, they admitted no compromise. 
No form of idolatry could obtain the slightest indulgence or 
toleration ; and " whatsoever defileth and maketh a lie " was un- 
sparingly denounced, and universally and unhesitatingly con- 
demned. 

III. We have seen, that Christian charity requires of us, not 
only a regard to the temporal and spiritual welfare of mankind, 
but, also, a suitable regard for the characters, feelings, and sensi- 
bilities of others, and an eminently peaceable and conciliating 

* Mark xii. 17. t Romans xiii. 1 - 7 ; 1 Peter ii. 13 - 17. 

51 



402 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

temper and conduct. We have seen, too, that charity is violated, 
when we indulge in unjust and unreasonable jealousies and sus- 
picions of the motives and designs of others ; when we attribute 
to unworthy motives and designs, actions and expressions, for 
which, with entire consistency, we might assign good motives 
and upright designs ; when we lend a willing ear and an easy 
belief to insinuation and slander in any of its manifold forms ; 
when we willingly give currency to misrepresentation and slander 
without inquiry into their truth, and without regard to the conse- 
quences of our conduct ; when we give circulation to truths suited 
and designed to injure others, from unworthy motives, and with- 
out having any good purpose in view ; and when we condemn 
persons whom we do not know, and customs and institutions 
which we do not understand. As in all other similar cases, 
however, there are circumstances and considerations by which 
this duty is limited and qualified^ and it only remains to con- 
sider what these limitations and qualifications are. 

1 . Christian charity does not require us to have a good opinion 
of others, in opposition to evidence well weighed and carefully 
examined, and comprising a full and fair view of their sentiments 
and conduct. A full and accurate acquaintance with the charac- 
ters of those around us is one of the most valuable branches of 
our knowledge, and is often equally requisite to our safety, and 
indispensable to the suitable discharge of our duty. To this 
end, we must observe carefully their sentiments and conduct, 
and weigh and examine well the evidence to be seen in the in- 
cidents and circumstances which present themselves. 

The mistake is sometimes made, of supposing that it is the 
office of charity to look with indulgence, if not with favor, on 
the faults and offences of mankind. But Christian charity is not 
a weakness ; and any such view of its nature does the utmost 
injustice to this sublime and exalted virtue. Charity is always 
sincere and candid, and her best wishes are extended to all. 
When any one of fair and honest report is accused of any offence, 
she receives the accusation with reluctance, and ventures to 
hope that it may prove unfounded. She is cautious in receiv- 
ing and careful in examining the evidence which may be urged 
against him; and, cc not rejoicing in iniquity, but rejoicing in the 



Chap. II] CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 403 

truth" she is gratified when the truth demands his acquittal 
and the approval of his conduct. At the same time, when the 
evidence is clear, and the offence is manifest, she yields her 
conviction, feeling that the opposite course would be to counte- 
nance sin and uphold iniquity. Still, while she condemns the sin 
that has been committed, she does not withdraw her good-will 
from the sinner , but holds herself ready to do him any service, 
which propriety admits and his necessities require. 

2. Charity does not require us to receive the professions and 
statements of others without suitable inquiry and examination. 
We are all familiar with the influence, which prejudice, passion, 
and interest have over the opinions, sentiments, and conduct of 
mankind. Even the best men are, in a greater or less degree, 
swayed by their influence ; and, not unfrequently, this is unknown 
to themselves. Strong passion absorbs, for the time, all the rea- 
soning faculties of the mind, and its blinding effect is as extensive 
as it is unquestionable. Prejudice imparts its own hue to every 
object and to every person ; and men have always found it most 
difficult to be convinced, that the way of rectitude can be any 
other than the way of their own interests. It is, then, no breach 
of that " charity which thinketh no evil," to receive the profes- 
sions, opinions, and statements of others with a wise and prudent 
caution. 

3. Christian charity does not require us, when wrongs are 
practised on us, to submit to them without resistance, made at a 
suitable time, and in a suitable manner and spirit. Living 
amidst collisions of opinion and prejudice, passion and interest, 
it is inevitable, that we should sometimes suffer wrong. And it 
has sometimes been supposed to be the duty of Christians to 
make no resistance to wrong under any circumstances. When 
injuries are slight, it is our duty to pass them by with slight no- 
tice, or without any notice at all. When they are of serious 
magnitude, this course often becomes impossible. St. Paul's 
injunction, (e If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live 
peaceably with all men," # contains an indirect admission, that 
this is not always possible. The precepts contained in St. 

* Romans xii. 18. 



404 DUTIES PECULIARLY CHRISTIAN. [Part VI. 

Matthew's Gospel, to turn the other cheek when one has been 
smitten, to go the second mile with him who has compelled you 
to go one, to give to him that asketh, to lend to him that would 
borrow of you, and to give your cloak to him who by process of 
law has taken your coat, * are to be understood as proverbial 
sayings, describing the general duties of benevolence and for- 
giveness, and the temper which we ought to aim at acquiring, 
rather than as rules for the literal direction of our conduct. 
They are extremely valuable for the disposition which they in- 
culcate ; but a specific compliance with them could not be impor- 
tant, and would be impossible. When, for instance, upon being 
struck on the one cheek, we are directed to turn the other, it 
cannot have been the meaning of our Saviour, that we should 
literally invite another blow ; for, when struck himself by an 
officer, in the palace of the high priest, we find that he rebuked 
him with becoming spirit, saying, u If I have spoken evil, bear 
witness of the evil ; but, if well, why smitest thou me ? " f 

The rule of non-resistance under any circumstances, would 
subject the mild, the patient, and the peaceable to the will and 
caprice of the strong, the rapacious, and the overbearing. So 
those passages, which seem arrayed against lawsuits, must be un- 
derstood as directed against a litigious spirit, and as enjoining 
that forbearance which will consent to be wronged in a support- 
able degree, rather than engage in strife and contention. St. 
Paul resorted to the laws of his country, and took refuge in his 
privileges as a Roman citizen, against a conspiracy of the Jews, 
and against the violence of the chief captain of the Roman sol- 
diers. | When, however, we make resistance to wrong, of what- 
ever kind or degree, our religion requires us most carefully to 
guard against permitting ourselves to be influenced by angry and 
vindictive motives. § 

I have thus treated the forgiveness of injuries and Christian 
charity at considerable length ; 1 . Because they are not only the 
chief duties of the Christian, so far as his neighbour is con- 
cerned, comprising, in a certain sense and measure, every other 

* Matt. v. 38 -42. t John xviii. 15 -- 23. t Acts xxii. 25; xxv. 11. 
§ Seed's Sermon before the University of Oxford, 1733 ; p. 7. — Sermon on 
Christian Forbearance, by Dr. Griffin. 



Chap. III.] INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKING. 405 

Christian duty and virtue ; * but they strike at the root of almost 
all, if not quite all, the vices and evils enumerated at the be- 
ginning of this Part, f 2. Because, where it was impossible, as 
it is in an elementary treatise of Moral Philosophy, to treat all the 
Christian virtues separately, I have still thought it well to analyze, 
expand, and illustrate, as I might, and as a specimen, two, and 
these the most fundamental, of the Christian virtues. 



CHAPTER III. 

INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKIJNG. 



I use this phrase in preference to drunkenness, as being more 
comprehensive, and otherwise more suited to the purpose which 
I have in view. I shall treat the subject under four divisions. 
I. The nature and occasions of intemperance. II. The signs. 
III. The evils. IV. The remedy. 

I. The more common apprehension is, that nothing is intem- 
perance, which does not supersede the regular operations of the 
mental faculties and the bodily organs. However much of spirit- 
uous liquors a man may consume, if he can command his under- 
standing, his utterance, and his bodily members, he is not usually 
reputed intemperate. And yet, drinking within these limits, he 
may be intemperate in respect to inordinate desire, the quantity 
consumed, the expense incurred, the present effect on his health, 
his temper, and his moral sensibilities ; and, what is more, in 
respect to the ultimate and almost inevitable results of bodily 
and mental imbecility, or habitual drunkenness. 

A multitude of persons, who are not accounted drunkards, 
create disease and shorten their days, by what they call a " pru- 
dent use of spirituous liquors." Let it, therefore, be engraven 
upon the heart of every man, that the daily use of spirituous 
liquors, in any form, or in any degree, is intemperance. Its 
effects are certain and deeply injurious, though its results may 

* Matt. xxii. 39, 40 ; 2 Peter i. 7 ; Coloss. iii. 14. t See above, p. 370, 



406 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

be slow in showing themselves, and may never be ascribed to 
the real cause. If all diseases which terminate in death, could 
speak out at the grave, or tell their origin upon the coffin-lid, we 
should witness the most appalling and unexpected disclosures. 
Happy the man, who so avoids the appearance of evil, as not to 
shorten his days by what he may call the prudent use of spirit- 
uous liquors, 

A sin so odious in its nature, and so fatal in its consequences, 
should be detected in its origin and strangled at its birth ; but 
ordinarily, instead of this, the habit is fixed, and the hope of 
reformation is gone, before the subject has the least suspicion of 
danger. It is of the last importance, therefore, that the various 
occasions of intemperance should be clearly described, that 
those, whose condition is not irretrievable, may . perceive their 
danger and escape, and that all, who are free, may be warned 
against such occasions of temptation and ruin. For the benefit of 
the young, especially, I propose to lay down a map of the way 
to destruction, and to wave a signal of warning upon every spot 
where a wayfaring man has been ensnared and destroyed. 

1. The first occasion of intemperance, which I shall mention, 
is found in the free and frequent use of spirituous liquors in the 
family, as an incentive to appetite, an alleviation of lassitude, or 
an excitement to cheerfulness. In these reiterated indulgences, 
even children are allowed to partake, and the tender organs of 
their stomachs are early perverted, and predisposed to habits of 
intemperance. No family, it is believed, accustomed to the daily 
use of ardent spirits, ever failed to plant the seeds of that dread- 
ful disease, which sooner or later produced a harvest of woe. 
The material of so much temptation and mischief ought not to 
be allowed a place in the family, except as a medicine, and even 
then it would be safer in the hands of an apothecary, to be sent 
for, like other medicines, when prescribed. 

2. Spirituous liquors, given in the way of hospitality, are not 
unfrequently the occasion of intemperance. In this case, too, 
the temptation is habitual. The utensils are present, and the 
occasions for their use are not unfrequent. And, when there is 
no guest, the sight of the liquor, the state of the health, or even 
lassitude of spirits, may indicate the propriety of the " prudent 



Chap. III.] INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKING. 407 

use," until the prudent use becomes, by repetition, habitual use, 
and habitual use becomes irreclaimable intemperance. In this 
manner, unquestionably, has many a father and mother, and son 
and daughter, been ruined for ever. Of the guests, too, who 
partake in this family hospitality, the number is not small who 
become ensnared ; especially among those whose profession calls 
them to visit families often, and many on the same day. 

3. Days of public assembling are extensively the occasions of 
excess which eventuates in intemperance. The means and temp- 
tations are ostentatiously multiplied, and multitudes go forth pre- 
pared and resolved to yield to temptation, while example and 
exhilarated feeling secure the ample fulfilment of their purpose. 
But, when the habit is once acquired of drinking, even mod- 
erately, as it will be called, on all the days of public assembling 
which occur in a year, a desire will soon be formed of drinking 
at other times, until the healthful appetite of nature is superseded 
by the artificial thirst produced by spirituous liquors. 

4. In the same class of high temptations are to be ranked all 
convivial associations for the purpose of drinking, with or with- 
out gaming, and late hours. There is nothing which young men 
of spirit fear less than the exhilaration of drinking on such occa- 
sions ; nor any thing which they are less able to resist, than the 
charge of cowardice when challenged to drink. But there is no 
one form of temptation before which more young men of promise 
have fallen into irretrievable ruin. The connexion between such 
beginnings and a fatal end is too manifest to require illustration. 

5. Feeble health and mental depression are to be numbered 
among the occasions of intemperance. Sinking of the spirits, and 
muscular debility, and mental darkness are, for a short time, alle- 
viated by the application of stimulants. But the cause of this 
momentary alleviation is applied and repeated, until the habit of 
excessive drinking is formed, and has become irresistible. Spir- 
ituous liquors, too, administered in the form of bitters, or as the 
medium of other medicines, have sometimes let in the destroyer ; 
and medical prescriptions have thus contributed, without doubt, 
to increase the number of intemperate drinkers. 

6. The distillation of ardent spirits never fails to raise up 
around the establishment a generation of drunkards. The cheap- 



408 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

ness of the liquor, and the ease with which families can provide 
themselves with large quantities, the product of their own labor, 
eventuate in frequent drinking and wide-spread intemperance. 
In like manner, the vending of ardent spirits, whether in places 
licensed or unlicensed, is a most afflicting evil. Here those, who 
have no stated employment, loiter away the day for a few potations 
of strong drink ; and here those, who have finished the toils of 
the day, meet to spend a vacant hour ; none content to be mere 
spectators. All drink, and few, for any length of time, drink tem- 
perately. Here, too, the grown-up children of the neighbour- 
hood, drawn by enticements, associate for social drinking, and the 
exhibition of feats of courage and premature manhood. The 
continued habit of dealing out spirituous liquors, in various forms 
and mixtures, leads, also, to frequent tasting, tasting to drinking, 
and drinking to drunkenness. 

7. A resort to ardent spirits as an alleviation of trouble results 
often in habits of confirmed intemperance. The loss of friends, 
perplexities of business, or the wreck of property, bring upon 
the spirits the distractions of care and the pressure of sorrow. 
Under these circumstances, resort is had to the exhilarating 
draught ; but, before the occasion for it has ceased, the remedy 
has converted itself into an intolerable disease. Spirituous 
liquors, moreover, employed to invigorate the intellect, or to 
restore nature, exhausted under severe study, have sometimes 
proved a fatal experiment. Mighty men have been cast down in 
this manner, never to rise. The quickened circulation does, for 
a time, invigorate intellect and restore exhausted nature. The 
adventitious energy imparted, however, impairs the native energy 
of the mind, and induces that faintness of heart and flagging of 
the spirits, which cry incessantly, " Give, give," and never, but 
with expiring breath, say, " It is enough." 

8. But the use of ardent spirits, employed as an aid to sustain 
labor, has been among the most fatal, because the most common 
and least suspected, causes of intemperance. It is justified as 
innocent, it is insisted on as necessary ; but no fact is more com- 
pletely established by experience, than that it is utterly useless 
and ultimately injurious, besides all the fearful evils of habitual 
intemperance, to which it so often leads. It is well settled, that 



Chap. III.] INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKING. 409 

there is no nutriment in spirituous liquors. All the effect of 
them, is, to concentrate the strength of the system for the time, 
beyond its capacity for regular exertion. It is borrowing strength 
for the present occasion, which will be needed for the future, 
without any provision for payment, and with the certainty of 
ultimate bankruptcy. 

II. The signs of intemperance. In the early stages of in- 
temperance, reformation is practicable. The misfortune is, 
intemperance is a sin so deceitful and ensnaring, that most men 
go on to irretrievable ruin, amidst many warnings, indeed, but 
these are to little or no purpose, because they do not understand 
their voice. It is of vast importance, therefore, that the symptoms 
of intemperance should be universally and familiarly known. 
The effects of the habit upon the body and upon the mind should 
be so described in all its stages, from the beginning to the end, 
that every one may see, and feel, and recognise these harbingers 
of ruin, as soon as they begin to show themselves upon him. 

] . One of the early indications of intemperance may be found 
in the associations of time, place, and person. In the com- 
mencement of this evil habit, there are many who drink to excess 
only on particular days, such as days of military display, the 
anniversary of our Independence, the birth-day of Washington, 
new year's day, and others of the like nature. When any of 
these holidays arrive, they bring with them, to many, the insatia- 
ble desire of drinking, as well as, it would seem, a sort of dispen- 
sation in their opinion, from the sin. There are others, who feel 
the desire of drinking stirred up within them by the associations 
of place. They could go from end to end of a day's journey 
without ardent spirits were there no taverns on the road. But 
the very sight of these li refuges of pilgrims," awakens the desire 
"just to step in and take something." And so powerful does 
this association become, that many will no more pass the tavern, 
than they would pass a fortified town, with all the engines of 
death pointed against them. There are in every city, town, and 
village, places of public resort, which, in like manner, as soon as 
the eye falls upon them, create a thirst for drinking ; and many, 
who, coming on business, pass near them, pay toll at them as 
regularly as at the gates ; and this, too, in returning as well as in 
52 



410 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

coming. In cities and their suburbs, there are hundreds of shops, 
at which a large proportion of those who bring in produce, stop 
regularly to receive the customary draught. In every commun- 
ity, also, we may observe particular persons, who can never 
meet each other without feeling the simultaneous appetite for 
strong drink. What can be the reason of this ? All men, when 
they meet, are not affected thus. Whoever, then, finds himself 
tempted, on meeting his companion or friend, to drink what he 
may call a social glass, ought to understand, that he discloses his 
own inordinate relish for ardent spirits, and indirectly accuses his 
friend of intemperance. 

2. A disposition to multiply the circumstances, which furnish 
the occasions and opportunities for drinking, may justly create 
alarm, that the habit is begun. When persons find occasions for 
drinking in all the variations of the weather, because it is so cold 
or so hot, so wet or so dry ; and in all the various states of the 
system, when they are vigorous that they may not be tired, and 
when tired that their vigor may be restored, they have approach- 
ed near to that state of intemperance in which they will drink in 
all states of the weather, and in all conditions of the body, and 
will drink with these pretexts, and drink without them, whenever 
their frequency may not suffice. 

3. Whoever finds the desire of drinking spirituous liquors 
returning daily at stated times, is warned to deny himself in- 
stantly, if he intends to escape confirmed intemperance. 

It is infallible evidence that a person has already done violence 
to nature, that the undermining process is begun, that the over- 
excited organs begin to flag, and cry out for adventitious aid, 
with an importunity, which, if indulged, will become more deep- 
toned, and importunate, and irresistible, until the power of self- 
denial is gone, and he is a ruined man. It is here, then, — be- 
side this commencing vortex, — that I would take my stand, to 
warn off the heedless navigator from destruction. For this is 
the parting point, between those who flee from danger and hide 
themselves, and the foolish who pass on and are punished. He 
who escapes this periodical thirst of times and seasons, will not 
be a drunkard, as he who comes within the reach of this power- 
ful attraction must retrace his steps, to escape destruction. It 



Chap. III.] INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKING. 411 

may not be certain, that every one who does not return will be- 
come a sot ; but it is certain, that he will enfeeble his body, gen- 
erate disease, and shorten his days. It may not be certain, that 
every one will sacrifice his reputation, or squander his property, 
and die in a hospital ; but it is certain, that a large proportion 
will come to poverty and infamy, of those who yield daily to the 
periodical appetite for ardent spirits. Here is the stopping-place ; 
and though beyond it men may struggle, and retard, and modify 
their progress, few, comparatively, who go by it, will return again 
to purity of enjoyment, and the sweets of temperate freedom. 
The servant has become the master, and, with a rod of iron and 
a whip of scorpions, he will torment them even before their time. 

4. Another sign of intemperance may be seen in the desire of 
concealment. When a man finds himself disposed to drink more 
often and more in quantity than he is willing to drink in presence 
of his family, and before the world, and begins to drink clandes- 
tinely and in secret places, he betrays a consciousness that he is 
disposed to drink more than to others will appear safe and proper ; 
and what he suspects others may think, he ought to suppose they 
have cause to think, and reform instantly. For now he has arriv- 
ed at a period in the history of intemperance, where, if he does 
not stop, he will hasten on to ruin with accelerated steps. So 
long as the eye of friendship, and a regard to public observation, 
kept him within limits, there was some hope of reformation ; but, 
when he cuts this last cord, and launches forth alone with his 
boat and his bottle, he has committed himself to mountain waves 
and furious winds, and will probably never return. 

5. When a man allows himself to drink always in company, as 
much as he thinks he can bear, without awakening in others the 
suspicion of inebriation, he will deceive himself, but no one else. 
For abused nature herself will publish the excess in the bloated 
countenance, and flushed visage, and tainted breath, and inflamed 
eye ; and, were all these banners of intemperance struck, the 
man, with his own tongue, will reveal his shame. At first there 
will be something strange in his appearance or conduct, to awaken 
observation, and induce scrutiny ; until at length, with all his care 
and adroitness, in some unguarded moment he will take more 
than he can bear. And now the secret is revealed, and these 



412 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

unaccountable things are explained. These exposures, too, will 
become more frequent, the unhappy man still dreaming, that, 
though he erred a little, he took such good care to conceal his 
error, that no one knew it but himself. He will even talk when 
his tongue is palsied, to ward off suspicion, and thrust himself 
into company, to show that he is not drunk. 

6. Those persons who find themselves, for some cause, always 
irritated when efforts are made to suppress intemperance, and 
moved by some instinctive impulse to make opposition, ought to 
examine instantly, whether the love of ardent spirits is not the 
cause of it. An acute observer of human nature once remarked, 
u I never knew an attempt made to suppress intemperance, which 
was not opposed by some persons, from whom I should not have 
expected opposition ; and I never failed to find, first or last, that 
those persons were themselves implicated in the sin. Temperate 
men seldom, if ever, oppose the reformation of intemperance." 

7. We now come to some more miscellaneous, but at the 
same time, still more decisive symptoms of intemperance, which 
abused nature, first or last, never fails to give. " Who hath red- 
ness of eyes," asks the sacred writer ; he answers, " They that 
tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek mixed wine."* 
Every man who is accustomed to drink ardent spirits freely, 
whose eye begins to redden and to weep, ought to know what 
the matter is, and to take warning ; it is one of the signals which 
distressed nature holds out and waves in token of distress. 
Another indication of intemperance is found in the fulness and 
redness of the countenance. Such a countenance is easily dis- 
tinguished from the fulness and freshness of health, and no free 
drinker carries such a face without a guilty and specific cause. 
It is another signal of distress which abused nature raises, while 
she cries for help. Impaired muscular strength and tremor of 
the hand are still further indications of intemperance. Now the 
destroyer, in his mining process, approaches the citadel of life, 
and is advancing fast to make the keepers of the house tremble, 
and the strong men bow themselves. This relaxation of the 
joints and trembling of the nerves will be experienced especially 



* Proverbs xxiii. 29, 30. 



Chap. III.] INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKING. 413 

in the morning, when the system unsustained by the usual stimu- 
lus has run down. Now all is relaxed, tremulous, and faint- 
hearted. The fire, which sparkled in the eye the evening before, 
is quenched ; the courage, which dilated the heart, is passed away; 
and the tones of eloquence, which dwelt on the excited tongue, 
are turned into pusillanimous complainings, until brandy, or bit- 
ters, or both, are thrown into the stomach to wind up again the 
run-down machine. And now, the liver begins to contract, and 
refuses to perform its functions ; loss of appetite ensues, and 
indigestion, and fermentation, and acidity begin to rob the system 
of nutrition, and to vex and irritate the vital organs, filling the 
stomach with air, and the head with fumes, and the soul with 
darkness and terror. These are physical indications of intem- 
perance not to be mistaken ; but there are others of a mental 
kind, no less decisive. 

One of these indications of a mental kind is, excessive irrita- 
bility, petulance, and violent anger. The great organ of nervous 
sensibility has been brought into a state of tremulous excitement. 
The slightest touch causes painful vibrations and irritations, which 
defy self-government. The temper becomes like the flash of 
gunpowder, or ungovernable as the helm driven hither and thither 
by raging winds and mountain waves. Another mental indication 
of intemperance is seen in the extinction of all the finer feelings 
and amiable dispositions of the man. The fiery stimulus has 
raised the organ of sensibility above the power of excitement by 
motives addressed to the finer feelings of the sensitive and moral 
nature, and has left the man a prey to animal sensation. You 
might as well fling out music upon the whirlwind, to stay its 
course, as attempt to govern the storm within, by addressing 
the gentler feelings of humanity. He is left the mere wreck 
of what he once was. He is not the same husband, father, 
brother, or friend. The sea has made a clear breach over him, 
and swept away for ever whatsoever things are pure, lovely, and 
of good report. 

The habitual irritation of the stomach, at length, extends by 
sympathy to the lungs, and a consumption ensues. The fumes 
of the scalding furnace below begin to lacerate the throat, and 
blister the tongue and the lip. Moreover, rheumatic pains diffuse 



414 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

themselves throughout the system. The man wonders what can 
be the reason, that he should be visited by such a complication of 
diseases, and betakes himself again and again to the physician, 
and tries every remedy but the simple one of temperance. For 
these pains are only the murmurings and complainings of nature, 
through all the system, u giving signs of woe, that all is lost." 
At length, the excitability of nature flags, and stimulants of high- 
er power, and in greater quantities, are required to rouse the 
impaired energies of life, until, finally, the whole process of dila- 
tory suicide, and worse than purgatorial suffering, having been 
passed through, " the silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl is 
broken, the wheel at the cistern stops, the dust returns to the 
earth, and the spirit to God who gave it, to receive, in judgment, 
according to the deeds done in the body." 

III. The evils of intemperance. This part of the subject 
has, in a great measure, been anticipated, so far as individuals are 
concerned, but it admits and requires further amplification and 
illustration in a national point of view. My limits do not permit 
me even to touch upon the overwhelming distress and ruin, 
which the intemperate man brings upon his disconsolate wife 
and children. 

1. The effects of intemperance upon the health and physical 
energies of a nation are not to be disregarded, or lightly esteem- 
ed. No fact is more certain than the transmission of tempera- 
ment and of physical constitution, according to the predominant 
moral condition of society, from age to age. Luxury produces 
effeminacy, and transmits to other generations imbecility and 
disease. Excesses unmake the man. The stature dwindles, the 
joints are loosely compacted, and the muscular fibre has lost its 
elastic tone. No giants' bones will be found in the cemeteries of 
a nation, over whom, for centuries, the waves of intemperance 
have rolled ; and no unwieldy iron armour, the annoyance and 
defence of other days, will be dug up as memorials of its depart- 
ed glory. The duration of human life, too, and the relative 
amount of health or disease, will manifestly vary, according to 
the quantity of spirituous liquors consumed in the land. No 
small proportion of the deaths, which annually make up our 
national bills of mortality, are the cases of those who have been 



Chap. III.] INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKING. 415 

brought to an untimely end, and who have, directly or indirectly, 
fallen victims to the pernicious use of ardent spirits ; fulfilling, 
with fearful accuracy, the prediction, " The wicked shall not live 
out half their days." 

2. The injurious influence of general intemperance upon na- 
tional intellect is equally certain, and not less to be deprecated. 

To the action of a powerful mind, a vigorous muscular frame 
is, as a general rule, indispensable. Like heavy ordnance, the 
mind in its efforts recoils on the body, and will soon shake down 
a puny frame. The mental action and physical reaction must 
be equal, or, finding its energies unsustained, the mind itself be- 
comes discouraged, and falls into despondency and imbecility. 
The flow of animal spirits, the fire and vigor of the imagination, 
the fulness and power of feeling, the comprehension and grasp 
of thought, the flash of the eye, the tones of the voice, and the 
electrical energy of utterance, all depend upon the healthful and 
vigorous tone of the animal system ; and by whatever means the 
strength of the body is impaired, the mind is made to languish. 
The greatest poets and orators, who stand on the records of 
immortality, flourished in the iron age, before the habits of effem- 
inacy had enervated the body and unstrung the mind. This is 
true of Homer and Demosthenes and Milton ; and if Virgil and 
Cicero are to be classed with them, it is not without a manifest 
abatement of vigor for beauty, produced by the progress of vo- 
luptuousness in the age in which they lived. History confirms 
these positions. The victories of Greece let in upon her the 
luxuries of the East, and covered her glory with a night of ages. 
And Rome, whose iron foot trode down the nations, witnessed, 
in her latter days, faintness of heart, and the shield of the mighty 
ingloriously cast away. 

3. Upon the national conscience or moral sense, the effects 
of intemperance are fatal. It obliterates the fear of the Lord 
and a sense of accountability, paralyzes the power of conscience, 
and hardens the heart. A nation is no more than a collection of 
individuals, and is a moral person, responsible for its acts, capa- 
ble of praise or blame, of doing right or doing wrong, of a 
depressed or elevated tone of moral feeling, of a conscience 
void of offence towards God and towards man, or of a conscience 
hardened by iniquity, and u seared by sin as with a hot iron." 



416 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

4. Upon national industry, too, the effects of intemperance 
are manifest and mischievous. The results of national industry 
depend on the amount of well-directed intellectual and physical 
energy. But intemperance paralyzes and destroys both these 
springs of action. In the inventory of national loss by intem- 
perance, may be set down the labor prevented by indolence, by 
debility, by sickness, by quarrels and litigation, by gaming, by 
mistakes and misdirected efforts, by improvidence and wasteful- 
ness, and by the diminished length of human life and activity. 
Little wastes in great establishments, constantly occurring, may 
impair or destroy the productiveness of a very large capital. 
But, where the intellectual and muscular energies are raised to 
the working point daily by ardent spirits, until the agriculture, 
and commerce, and arts of a nation move on by the power of 
artificial stimulants, that moral power cannot be maintained, which 
will guaranty industry and integrity, and that physical power can- 
not be preserved and well directed, which will insure national 
prosperity. 

5. The effects of intemperance upon civil liberty ought not 
to pass unnoticed. It is admitted that intelligence and virtue are 
the pillars of republican institutions, and that the illumination of 
schools, and the moral power of religious institutions, are indis- 
pensable to secure this intelligence and virtue. But who are 
found so uniformly in the ranks of irreligion as the intemperate ? 
Who like these violate the sacredness of Sunday, and set their 
mouths against the heavens, neglecting the education of their 
children, and corrupting their morals ? Much the larger part of 
national ignorance and crime, is the offspring of intemperance. 
Throughout the land, the intemperate are hewing down the pillars, 
and undermining the foundations, of our national edifice. 

IV. The remedy of intemperance. By what means can the 
evil of intemperance be stayed ? 

1. There should be extended through the country an all- 
pervading sense of the danger of falling into this sin. Intem- 
perance is a disease, as well as a crime ; and, were any other 
disease equally contagious, equally well marked in its symptoms, 
and equally mortal, to pervade the land, it would create universal 
consternation. Much is said of u the prudent use " of spirituous 
liquors ; but there is no prudent use of them, except when they 



Chap. III.] INTEMPERANCE IN DRINKING, 417 

are used only as a medicine. All who receive them into the 
system, it is true, are not destroyed by them. But if any vege- 
table were poisonous to as many, as the use of ardent spirits 
proves destructive to, it would be banished from the table ; it 
would not be considered prudent to use it at all. The effect of 
attempting to use ardent spirits prudently is to multitudes so 
destructive, as to preclude the possibility of prudence in the use of 
them. And, when we consider the deceitful nature of this sin, 
and its almost irresistible power when it has obtained an ascen- 
dency, no man can use spirituous liquors prudently, or, without 
mocking his Maker, can pray while he uses them, " Lead us not 
into temptation." 

2. A vivid recollection should be habitually maintained, that a 
person may be guilty of great intemperance without actual 
drunkenness. So long as men suppose, that there is neither 
crime nor danger in drinking, short of what they denominate 
drunkenness, they will cast off fear and move onward to ruin by 
a silent, certain course, until destruction comes upon them, and 
they cannot escape. It should be known, therefore, and admit- 
ted, that, to drink daily, at stated times, any quantity of spirituous 
liquors, is intemperance ; or to drink periodically, as often as days, 
and times, and seasons may furnish temptation and opportunity, is 
intemperance. It is violence done to the system, and the 
beginning of a habit which cannot fail to generate disease, and 
will not be pursued by one hundred men, without producing many 
drunkards. 

In respect to the reformation of those over whom the habit of 
intemperance has obtained an ascendency, there is but one alter- 
native ; they must resolve upon immediate and entire abstinence. 
Many a man is equal to practising entire abstinence, who is une- 
qual to the practice of temperance. Some have recommended, 
and many have attempted, a gradual discontinuance. But no 
man's prudence and fortitude are equal to the task of reformation 
in this way. If the patient were in close confinement, where he 
could not help himself, he might be dealt with in this manner ; but 
it would be cruelly protracting a course of suffering through 
months, which might be ended in a few days. But no man, at 
liberty, will reform by gradual retrenchment. 
53 



418 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

3. With respect to the general reformation of intemperance, 
there is but one universal, natural, and national remedy, on 
which we can absolutely rely ; and that is, the banishment of 
spirituous liquors, not only from the family and from social meet- 
ings and festive entertainments of whatever kind, but also from 
commerce and merchandise, by raising ujp a correct and effective 
public sentiment on the subject. 

To this end, the pulpit, " in the sober use of its legitimate 
powers," may do much, much more than it has yet done. The 
press might soon accomplish the object, by its own immense re- 
sources, if it could be earnestly and universally enlisted. Vol- 
untary associations, formed to use the press for the purpose of 
raising up such a public sentiment, and of giving it strength and 
efficiency, have done much, very much. Magistrates, especially 
the mayors and councils of our cities might do much to check 
intemperance by a firm and moderate use of the means placed 
at their disposal ; and some of them have honorably distinguished 
themselves in this way. Finally, every man may give to this 
cause the benefit of his own example ; every father of a family 
may bring up those specially intrusted to his care, in habits of 
abstinence from spirituous liquors ; many may influence their 
neighbours, and unite themselves with temperance associations ; 
and all may implore for it the Divine blessing.* 

* This chapter principally consists of an abridgment of the language, and a 
condensation of the sentiments, of Dr. Beecher's " Six Sermons on Intemper- 
ance." It will be perceived, too, that the author has confined himself, in this 
discussion, to the use and sale of distilled liquors. The question respecting the 
use of wine, beer, &c, he considers beyond the u Elements of Moral Philoso- 
phy," to which he proposes to limit himself. 



Chap. IV.] THE LOTTERY SYSTEM. 419 



CHAPTER IV. 

GAMING, INCLUDING AN EXAMINATION OF THE MORAL TENDEN- 
CY AND INFLUENCE OF THE LOTTERY SYSTEM. 

Gaming, in the usual sense of the term, will not be noticed 
by me any further than as a convenient introduction to the exam- 
ination of an extensive system not known by name as gaming, 
but fraught with most, if not all, of the mischiefs of the worst 
species and degrees of ordinary gaming. I refer to the lottery 
system. Gaming is an offence prohibited by law, well known to 
all as the acknowledged road to the ruin of body, mind, and es- 
tate, and resorted to only by men, who would seem to be beyond 
the reach of any motives and remonstrances which can be urged 
by the moral philosopher ; while the lottery system is still, in a 
considerable measure, upheld and sanctioned by law, and sus- 
tained by the countenance, and even the occasional participation, 
of the respectable and the influential. Assuredly, when ordinary 
gaming is universally denounced by the wise and the good, the 
lottery system can only be permitted to exist among us, because 
the country has not reflected on the subject, and the public mind 
has not been enlightened in regard to its evils and pernicious 
consequences. 

The lottery was known to the Romans ; but it was not until 
comparatively late times, that the republic of Genoa first sug- 
gested the plan of resorting to it as a measure of finance. From 
Italy, about the year 1580, it found its way into France. The 
first lottery mentioned in English history was established in 1567. 
A few years after, lotteries had become numerous, and divers 
statutes were enacted to assuage, by restrictions and penalties, 
the malignity of their influence. But it is a part of the history 
of the lottery system, that all checks, guards, and restrictions have 
been but temporary alleviations, which, like most remedies of that 
nature, have produced the effect of giving false security to the 
patient, rather than of really counteracting the disease.* 

The last state lottery in England was drawn on the 18th of October, 



420 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

From England, the system came into this country, and the 
second lottery ever granted by Parliament was authorized in the 
reign of James I., for carrying on the colonization of Virginia. 
The effects of the system, too, were early felt in the Eastern 
colonies; for, in 1699, " the ministers met at Boston" felt 
themselves called upon to denounce u the lottery as a fraud, and 
its agents as pillagers of the people." But, notwithstanding this 
early denunciation of the system, it gradually struck deep root 
in the soil of this country, and has shot its noxious branches into 
many portions of the American Union. Legislative sanction has 
been given to this fraud, under the various pretences of exca- 
vating canals, building bridges, endowing colleges, and even 
erecting churches. So liable are men, without reflection, to be 
led astray by the sophism of making the end sanctify the means 
by which it is attained. 

Every principle of calculation is against the system ; yet the 
bare possibility of obtaining a great sum for a small advance is 
so strong an inducement with the lower orders of society, and 
the ingenuity and profits of the persons whose interest it is to 
excite and keep alive in them the spirit of gaming are so great, that 
they will adventure, to their ruin, notwithstanding the results of 
calculation make against them with all the evidence of the light of 
noon-day. For instance, in a modern scheme containing 45,760 
tickets, there may probably be, besides smaller prizes, twenty 
prizes of $1000 each, one prize of $5000, and one of $20,000. 
Now the great majority of adventurers have their eyes fixed on 
the high prizes. And what are their chances of obtaining them ? 
The chance of the holder of a single ticket to obtain one of the 
prizes of $1000 is shown, by calculation, to be as one to 2080. 
His chance of drawing the prize of $5000, is as one to 22,880, 
and his chance of securing the capital prize of $20,000, is in 
the ratio of one to the aggregate number of tickets in the 
scheme, that is, of one to 45,760. How remote the prospect 
of success in securing any of the high prizes, which appear so 
dazzling to the eyes of the adventurers. Again, w T ere an indi- 

1826. France has just announced her intention to follow the example of Eng- 
land in abolishing the lottery system. National Gazette, 11th of March, 1837. 



Chap. IV.] THE LOTTERY SYSTEM. 421 

vidual to buy all the tickets in a lottery, his loss would be im- 
mense ; and, on every principle of calculation, his loss will be 
proportionate for as many tickets as he may venture to buy. 
There are other aspects equally striking in which this calculation 
might be presented, if my limits did not admonish me, that I 
have already gone quite far enough. 

Nor, when viewed as a measure of finance, or as the means 
of raising money with which to accomplish any object deemed 
desirable, is the lottery system more promising, than when, tested 
by calculation, it holds out the prospect of enriching individuals. 

In the amount specified to be raised by any given lottery, the 
entire sum actually to be drained from the pockets of the people 
never appears. It is a striking feature of the system, that all is 
wrapped in concealment and obscurity. The proposal, for instance, 
to raise by lottery, $10,000 or $15,000, to be expended in 
public charity, or internal improvements, from the smallness of 
the sum is not supposed to be worthy of serious remonstrance 
or opposition. As the grant, too, confers only the power to 
offer a few tickets for sale, the purchase of which is free from 
constraint, and rests entirely upon the volition of the buyers, 
there can be, it is thought, no just objection against it. And 
when the destination of the money is considered, it appears to 
be so meritorious on the ground of benevolence or public spirit, 
that the measure, from meeting at first with acquiescence, is 
hailed at length with the voice of popular favor. 

But it is not taken into the account, that the raising of so 
trivial a sum sometimes requires the issuing of schemes ap- 
proaching to a million of dollars. Two lotteries in the State of 
Maine, granted in 1831, left a surplus in the treasury, beyond 
the expenses, of no more than $14-21, after having issued 
schemes to the amount of $60,000. A lottery was granted by 
the Legislature of Massachusetts, in 1812, to the town of 
Plymouth, for the purpose of raising $16,000, to be expended in 
completing certain repairs in the Plymouth beach. At the end 
of nine years, it was ascertained, that only $9,876*17 had been 
raised for the object, notwithstanding classes had been drawn, 
amounting in the aggregate to $886,439-75. Again; in 1811, 
the Legislature of Pennsylvania granted to a company the privi- 



422 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

lege of raising $340,000, for the purposes of the Union Canal. 
By a contract entered into with certain gentlemen of New York, 
schemes were permitted to be issued to an indefinite extent, upon 
the annual payment into the hands of the company of the sum of 
$30,000. In pursuance of this contract, and under the assumed 
authority of the grant, schemes had been issued by the end of 
the year 1833, exceeding, in the aggregate, the astonishing sum 
of thirty-three millions of dollars. The portentous career of this 
lottery has been arrested ; but, if it had not been, it is difficult to 
conjecture how many millions more would have been levied upon 
the people, under the pretence that the grant had not been satis- 
fied. In the State of New York, too, schemes were issued, 
between the adoption of her new constitution, in 1821 , and the 
end of the year 1833, to the enormous amount of thirty-seven 
millions of dollars. It thus appears, that, to collect a few hundred 
dollars by means of the lottery system, the assessment must be 
thousands ; and if the object is to accumulate a few thousands, 
no less than millions must be extracted from the pockets of the 
people. 

But the sacrifice of money, great as the amount has been, 
is of comparatively small importance, when we inquire into the 
moral tendency and effects of the system, as made known by ex- 
perience. As early as 1762, the Provincial Assembly of Penn- 
sylvania pronounced it to be a mischievous and unlawful game ; 
to be detrimental to youth, and ruinous to the poor ; the source 
of fraud and dishonesty ; alike hurtful to industry, commerce, 
and trade, as it was baneful to the interests of good citizenship, 
morality, and virtue. 

It is all this and much more. In the train of the lottery sys- 
tem, an appalling picture of vice, crime, and misery, in every 
varied form, is presented to the mind. Husbands and fathers of 
families, respected through a long and well-sustained course of 
years, have at length, by the influence of this delusive entice- 
ment, been seduced from their integrity, and brought to end their 
days the tenants of a prison, under the just sentence of deep and 
complicated guilt. Others, again, in the prime of life, holding 
important public trusts, have become adventurers, by little and 
little, till their own resources have been swept away, and then, for 



Chap. IV.] THE LOTTERY SYSTEM. 423 

the desperate chance of retrieving their losses, they have betray- 
ed the confidence of their station, have been detected and dis- 
graced, and ultimately have been forced from the bosom of their 
families and their homes ; rupturing the closest and most sacred 
ties of nature and affinity, and leaving those, whom they ought to 
have protected, a charge on the community. 

Numerous instances might be adduced of persons yet in boy- 
hood, clerks, and apprentices, who, singly and in combination, 
have purloined the property of their masters and employers, to 
meet the demands of continued disappointment in lottery specu- 
lations. Still another class might be mentioned, consisting of 
young men just freed from the control of guardians and friends, 
with a sufficient patrimonial inheritance to enable them to employ 
their time and talents usefully to the community, and advanta- 
geously and honorably to themselves ; but who, ignorant of the true 
character of lottery schemes, have deliberately invested their all^ 
in order to realize the sudden, certain, and independent fortunes, 
which are so lavishly promised by the lottery schemes, which 
meet their eyes at almost every step they take. # But on this 
(the moral) part of the subject, something more than a mere 
summary of the evils seems to be called for. 

1. The system has reduced to insolvency very great numbers, 
who, before being drawn away by its seductions, were in pros- 
perous circumstances. Few persons, when they have once per- 
mitted themselves to be drawn fairly within its influence, have 
escaped pecuniary ruin. By a transcript from " the records of 
the Insolvent Court for the city and county of Philadelphia," 
prepared from the petitions themselves, which were deliberately 
sworn or affirmed to by the petitioners, and which is now lying 
before me, it appears, that between March term, 1830, and Sep- 
tember term, 1833, there were fifty-five cases of insolvency, 
which were ascribed to the ruinous effects of the lottery system. 
This fact indicates the magnitude of this one branch of the evil 
of the system, during the period of not much more than three 
years, and within the narrow precincts of the county of Philadel- 
phia. It is certain, too, that the records of the court do not 

* Report of a Committee of the citizens of Philadelphia, appointed to investi- 
gate the evils of Lotteries, &c, made on the 12th of December, 1831. 



424 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

include all who were driven to insolvency from this cause, within 
this time, and within the limits of this district. For many, whose 
losses in this way were the principal occasion of their misfor- 
tunes, suppressed the disclosure of them in their petitions, and 
the fact was only elicited by examinations at the bar. Many, 
likewise, either from the indulgence of creditors, or successful 
dexterity in eluding the law, were never driven into the Insolvent 
Court. Judging from what we know of the county of Philadel- 
phia, how great must be the number of insolvencies, and conse- 
quently how great the domestic suffering, caused by the lottery 
system in the United States. 

2. The system has led to very numerous cases of embezzle- 
ment, fraud, purloining, breach of trust, &c. It is in the regular 
course of events, that lottery speculations should finally plunge 
the speculator into deep and complicated guilt. He becomes 
poor by successive losses, his poverty leads him to petty villa- 
nies, he gradually proceeds from one impropriety to another, till 
at last his feelings become blunted, and his reputation is tarnished. 
Low dissipation and idle phantasms of golden showers, from being 
long indulged, have so impaired his faculties and weakened his 
sense of character, as to destroy his ability for any useful pur- 
suit. He looks around him for assistance, but the avenues to 
relief are closed ; he is in debt beyond the hope of extrication, 
his standing in society is ruined, and his native energy is gone. 
Thus prepared for some reckless effort to repair his fortune, 
where can he seek for aid, but from the principles which he has 
imbibed ; what counsellors can he listen to, but his desperation 
and his necessities ? I have before me an extensive collection of 
actual cases, illustrative of the numerous frauds, embezzlements, 
and purloinings to which the lottery system in this country has 
given birth. They consist of a melancholy detail of persons, of 
both sexes, and of almost every variety of employment and con- 
dition, ruined, first in estate and prospects, and finally in character, 
by the illusions and seductions of this destructive system of legal- 
ized gaming. Many of them are affecting, and even tragical, 
in the impression produced by their perusal. 

3. Intemperance and suicide are extensively the consequences 
of this system. Intemperance, in the first instance, and eventu- 



Chap. IV.] THE LOTTERY SYSTEM. 425 

ally suicide, seem to be the natural consequences of the course 
of life, which is incident to every species of gaming, and espe- 
cially to gaming by the lottery system. For what is more likely 
to be resorted to as a cure for the tedium of idleness, or the dis- 
appointment of successive losses, than the excitement or insensi- 
bility to be found in the intoxicating cup ? And, when that idle- 
ness at last terminates in despondency, and those losses in de- 
spair, where can the infatuated and unhappy victim find refuge 
but in the embraces of death ? His sense of religion, his morals, 
and his courage have been dissipated with his money, and his 
hardened conscience feels no horror at the crime of self-destruc- 
tion. Having ruined all his prospects in this world, he madly 
rushes upon his final destiny. Dupin ascribes a hundred cases 
of suicide annually to the lottery system, in the single city of 
Paris. Many years ago, a lottery scheme was formed in Lon- 
don, displaying several magnificent prizes of £ 50,000 and 
£100,000, which tempted to adventures of very large amount, 
and the night of the drawing was signalized by fifty cases of 
suicide. 

4. The effects of drawing prizes have almost always been dis- 
astrous upon those who have drawn them. It is, perhaps, pecu- 
liar to the lottery system, that success and failure alike tend to 
ruin the victim of its allurements. The drawing of a prize has 
often tended to accelerate a downfall, which, without such suc- 
cess, might have been delayed. The actual cases are numerous, 
in which the drawing of a prize is the epoch of the adventurer's 
destruction, and may be considered as the knell of his earthly 
hopes and prospects. The cases before me show, that the few, 
who have been successful in drawing considerable prizes, have 
generally been led, by their success, to launch forth into new and 
still more extravagant adventures, by which they have eventually 
been involved in equally certain, and still more overwhelming 
ruin. 

5. It may be well to institute a brief comparison between the 
lottery system and ordinary gaming. It admits of the most con- 
vincing proof, that the lottery system is more extensively preju- 
dicial than other kinds of gaming, by holding out enticements 
which affect more or less every class in society. It is accom- 

54 



426 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

modated to the poor as well as to the rich ; to the concealed 
speculator no less than to the avowed libertine. The subdivision 
of chances is so minute as even to include, among the adven- 
turers, the day-laborer, the apprentice to a trade, and the servant 
girl. But it does not stop here. With its own undistinguishing 
spirit, it sacrifices older victims, and ascends into higher walks. 
It penetrates into situations which would prove impervious to the 
contaminating influences of ordinary gaming. While, in common 
gaming, the personal superintendence which is necessary must 
expose the infamy of participation, the odium of holding tickets 
may be prevented by committing to another the charge of the 
purchase. It is thus, that persons claiming respectability have 
been known to engage in lottery speculations without incurring 
the disgrace, w T hich, in all well-regulated communities, is attached 
to the practice of gaming. In truth, want of consideration has 
sometimes led persons, whose morals were irreproachable, in 
other respects, to purchase tickets, and thus to countenance a 
system which has brought multitudes to shame and ruin. 

Again, the risks are greater in the lottery than in other gaming. 
The chance of the latter may be as one to one, or greater, ac- 
cording to the skill of the player ; but the hazards of the former 
are frequently in the proportion of one to a thousand or even 
more. In the one, the loss of fortune may ensue in a single 
night ; but in the other, the excitements of hope and the agony 
of disappointment, may alternate in rapid succession, and the 
unhappy adventurer may have a protracted and most painful 
struggle, before he can know the result of the contest. In the 
mean time, he is rendered a useless, not to say a pernicious, 
member of society ; his principles are contaminated by familiar 
association with infamy and guilt, and his habits debauched by 
indulging in the excesses into which he has most probably been 
drawn. The life of a regular gamester may possibly admit of 
useful occupation in the intervals of play. But the lottery ad- 
venturer broods by day and night over his tickets, his imagina- 
tion is excited with the grand idea of obtaining the capital prize, 
and his mind is held in that state of anxious suspense, which per- 
mits nothing to divert it from the one absorbing object of its 
contemplation. He is soon incapable of a higher effort than 



Chap. IV.] THE LOTTERY SYSTEM. 427 

to discuss the merits of a scheme, or to lounge in a lottery office. 
Though often the loser, he is sometimes the gainer ; new excite- 
ment is thereby given to his passion ; he is urged on to new ad- 
ventures ; great good fortune only whets his appetite for greater 
still ; and continued ill-luck only nourishes the hope of its speedy 
termination. Driven, as well by the desperate necessity of 
ministering to his excitement, as by depraved principles and 
reckless despair, he is ready for the perpetration of any enor- 
mity. The effects of the lottery system, therefore, on the char- 
acter, are at least as ruinous as the effects of ordinary gaming. 
What claim, then, has such a system to be cherished and nur- 
tured by the genial sunshine of protective legislation, in a coun- 
try, with whose entire policy it is directly at war, whose interest 
consists in presenting every incentive to useful and honorable 
exertion, and in making wealth the fruit of intelligent and perse- 
vering industry ? 

6. The tendency of this system to raise up and encourage 
idlers, spendthrifts, and gamesters of every description, ought to 
be more distinctly brought to view than it has hitherto been. 
The Philadelphia committee of 1831, before referred to, affirm, 
that the number of these classes of persons has been daily aug- 
menting in that city ; a fact, which, they say, no citizen, not wholly 
inattentive to what is passing around him, can have failed to notice 
and deplore. In Philadelphia, the number of lottery offices in 
1831 was ascertained to be one hundred and seventy-seven, and in 
1833, the number was estimated to be more than two hundred. It 
was estimated, too, that between five and six hundred persons were 
employed to attend to the business of these two hundred or more 
offices. These persons subsist and grow rich by preying upon 
their deluded fellow-citizens. Boys of the tenderest age are 
initiated into all the mysteries of the craft, which are those of 
habitual falsehood and schemes of rapine. The artifices prac- 
tised to deceive the credulous, allure the unwary, and induce a 
purchase, and the frauds devised for robbing the wretched victim 
of his prize, when he happens to draw one, are matter of common 
notoriety. Then, too, observe the scenes and spectacles at the 
drawings, which, it is affirmed, occur, in some of our cities, almost 
every fortnight throughout the year. Hundreds of wretched 



428 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

persons are collected on these occasions, whose intense anxiety 
is read in their flushed and distorted countenances. Listen to 
the loud imprecations and blasphemy, mingled with the scarcely 
audible whisper of profane, delirious, and intoxicating joy, upon 
the announcement of a prize. Observe the motley throng upon 
their dispersion, and witness the agonizing disappointment and 
despair, which are seen upon the faces of ninety-nine in every 
hundred. Such is the system, which, though considerably 
checked within a few years, still exists very extensively, both in 
Europe and in the United States. 

The celebrated French mathematician and physical astrono- 
mer, M. Laplace, has summed up the objections to the lottery 
system, in a manner at once so clear and comprehensive, that I 
have been anxious to give the close of this chapter the advantage 
of being enriched by his observations, but my limits render it 
impossible to gratify this wish.* He sustains me fully in the 
mathematical, financial, and moral views which I have taken of 
the subject. f 



CHAPTER V. 

DUELLING. 



Duelling is accustomed to be defended by very few, even 
of those who are willing, on certain occasions, to resort to it. 
They are rather accustomed to rest it on alleged necessity, than 
on argument ; of which necessity they assume to be the exclusive 
judges. It seems useless, therefore, to treat by argument and 
protracted discussion, a practice which is scarcely ever vindicated 



* See Extrait du Discours prononce par M. de Laplace, a la Chambre des 
Pairs, le 16 Juillet, 1819. — Mr. Jefferson's views may be seen in his Works, 
Vol. IV. pp. 428-438. 

f In preparing this chapter, much use has been made of a well- written 
and otherwise very valuable pamphlet of 105 pages, on the evils of the lottery 
system in the United States, published by Job R. Tyson, Esq., at the request of 
a meeting of the citizens of Philadelphia, on the 22d of November, 1833. 



Chap. V.j DUELLING. 429 

in that way. * Still, I am unwilling to leave an evil so dangerous 
and so pernicious, without giving it some further consideration, f 
Under these circumstances, I can think of no way which prom- 
ises to be more useful, than to take one of the most celebrated 
cases of duelling on record, and carefully analyze it, and consider 
its moral character and complexion. To this end, I am unhap- 
pily furnished with an instance as well suited to my purpose as 
could be desired. 

In the year 1804, the celebrated Alexander Hamilton and Col- 
onel Aaron Burr met in personal combat, occasioned by a differ- 
ence arising out of the political relations which subsisted between 
them. General Hamilton had been Secretary of the Treasury 
during President Washington's administration, and Colonel Burr 
had been Vice-President of the United States. General Ham- 
ilton was mortally wounded in the combat, and died the next day. 
Previous to the meeting, he drew up a paper to be left behind 
him in the event of his falling, which makes us fully acquainted 
with his views on duelling. It is subjoined in the note. J The 

* Boswell's Life of Johnson, Vol. I. p. 294. t See above, pp. 109, 303, 304. 

t " I was certainly desirous of avoiding this interview, for the most cogent 
reasons. 1. My religious and moral principles are strongly opposed to the 
practice of duelling; and it would ever give me pain to be obliged to shed the 
blood of a fellow-creature in a private combat forbidden by the laws. 2. My 
wife and children are extremely dear to me, and my life is of the utmost impor- 
tance to them in various views. 3. I feel a sense of obligation towards my 
creditors, who, in case of accident to me, may, by the forced sale of my prop- 
erty, be in some degree sufferers. I did not think myself at liberty, as a man of 
probity, lightly to expose them to this hazard. 4. I am conscious of no ill-will 
to Colonel Burr, distinct from political opposition, which, as I trust, has pro- 
ceeded from pure and upright motives. Lastly, I shall hazard much, and can 
possibly gain nothing by the issue of the interview. 

" But it was, as I conceive, impossible for me to avoid it. There were in- 
trinsic difficulties in the thing, and artificial embarrassments from the manner 
of proceeding on the part of Colonel Burr. Intrinsic, because it is not to be 
denied, that my animadversions on the political principles, character, and views 
of Colonel Burr have been extremely severe ; and on different occasions, I, in 
common with many others, have made very unfavorable criticisms on particular 
instances of the private conduct of this gentleman. 

" In proportion as these impressions were entertained with sincerity, and 
uttered with motives and for purposes, which might to me appear commendable, 
would be the difficulty (until they could be removed by evidence of their being 
erroneous) of explanation or apology. The disavowal required of me by Colo- 



430 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

following brief but careful analysis and observations on this trans- 
action are submitted without amplification. 

1. General Hamilton unequivocally condemns, nay, "abhors 

nel Burr, in a general and indefinite form, was out of my power, if it had been 
really proper for me to submit to be questioned ; but I was sincerely of opinion, 
that this could not be ; and in this opinion I was confirmed by a very moderate 
and judicious friend, whom I consulted. Besides that Colonel Burr appeared 
to me to assume, in the first instance, a tone unnecessarily peremptory and 
menacing; and in the second, positively offensive. Yet I wished, as far as 
might be practicable, to leave a door open for accommodation. This, I think, 
will be inferred from the written communications made by me and by my di- 
rection ; and would be confirmed by the conversation between Mr. Van Ness 
and myself, which arose out of the subject. I am not sure whether, under all 
the circumstances, I did not go further in the attempt to accommodate, than a 
punctilious delicacy will justify. If so, I hope the motives I have stated will 
excuse me. 

" It is not my design, in what I have said, to affix any odium on the conduct 
of Colonel Burr, in this case. He doubtless has heard of animadversions of 
mine, which bore very hard upon him ; and it is probable, that, as usual, they 
were accompanied by some falsehoods. He may have supposed himself under 
a necessity of acting as he has done. I hope the grounds of his proceeding 
have been such as ought to satisfy his own conscience. 

" 1 trust, at the same time, that the world will do me the justice to believe, 
that I have not censured him on light grounds, nor from unworthy induce- 
ments. I certainly have had strong reasons for what I may have said ; though 
it is possible, that, in some particulars, I may have been influenced by miscon- 
struction or misinformation. It is also my ardent wish, that I may have been 
more mistaken than I think I have been ; and that he, by his future conduct, 
may show himself worthy of all confidence and esteem, and prove an ornament 
and blessing to the country. 

" As well because it. is possible, that I may have injured Colonel Burr, how- 
ever convinced myself, that my opinions and declarations have been well found- 
ed, as from my general principles and temper in relation to such affairs, 1 have 
resolved, if our interview is conducted in the usual manner, and it pleases God 
to give me the opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire ; and I have 
thoughts even of reserving my second fire, and thus giving a double opportunity 
to Colonel Burr to pause and reflect. It is not, however, my intention to enter 
into any explanation on the ground. Apology (from principle, I hope, rather 
than pride) is out of the question. 

" To those, who, with me, abhorring the practice of duelling, may think, 
that I ought on no account to have added to the number of bad examples, I an- 
swer,<that my relative situation, as well in public as private, enforcing all the 
considerations which constitute what men of the world denominate honor, im- 
posed on me (as I thought) a peculiar necessity not to decline the call. The 
ability to be, in future, useful, whether in resisting mischief, or effecting good, 
in those crises of our public affairs which seem likely to happen, would, proba- 
bly, be inseparable from a conformity to public prejudice in this particular. 

" A. H." 



Chap. V.] DUELLING. 431 

the practice of duelling," and yet, acting contrary to " his reli- 
gious and moral principles," he sanctions the practice by his own 
example. 

2. Public opinion has settled down, most decidedly and une- 
quivocally, in the conviction, that he ought not to have granted 
Colonel Burr a meeting. His conduct, therefore, besides being 
condemned by himself, is generally, if not universally, disap- 
proved by his countrymen. 

3. In this transaction, General Hamilton deliberately con- 
formed to what he himself calls " public prejudice," in disregard 
(adopting his own views) of his " own religious and moral princi- 
ples," of the law of God and his country, — of the claims of 
his wife and children, and of his creditors, whom, " as a man of 
probity," he does not think himself at liberty lightly to expose to 
the hazard of losing their property by him. All these he made 
up his mind to sacrifice at the shrine of " public prejudice." 

4. Every man standing, like General Hamilton, on a high 
social, political, and intellectual eminence, is sacredly bound to 
refuse his sanction to this practice, equally violative of the law of 
God and man. This has been done by many, with whom General 
Hamilton needed not to have been ashamed to associate himself. 
If duels were to cease in high life, we should never hear of them 
in common life. As long as men, elevated by their talents, and 
by their social and political rank, continue to resort to duels, they 
will be sure to have a train of more humble imitators. Men of 
their standing in society, therefore, are chiefly responsible for 
the existence and prevalence of this crime. It is emphatically 
a crime perpetrated in high places. 

5. How sophisticated, not to say absurd, was General Hamil- 
ton's view of "honor," by which he conceived himself bound 
to be governed, in violation of his religion, his morals, and the 
law of his country. Such was not the ancient idea of honor ; # 
and we may well exclaim, How feeble are the most gifted under- 
standings, when they permit themselves to be entangled in the 
labyrinths of sophistry, and lose sight of the plain and direct 
path of truth and duty. 

* See above, pp. 302 -304. 



432 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

6. We may read in this transaction still another instructive 
lesson. We see a man adorned with every natural and acquired 
accomplishment which can well be ascribed to human nature, ac- 
knowledging that he is held to a particular line of conduct by 
the supreme consideration of his religion, his morals, and the law 
of his country, and yet writhing and struggling to determine how 
he shall conduct himself on an occasion of no very extraordinary 
emergency. A spell seems to be thrown around him, he seems 
to be deprived of his vigorous sense, and of his strong and manly 
reason, as if by the touch of enchantment. In deed and in 
truth, the lion seems fast bound in the meshes of the spider's 
web. How instantly would the decisions of his conscience, if 
he had been willing to be counselled by its Divine guidance, 
have swept away the flimsy sophistry of public opinion, or " pub- 
lic prejudice," as he more justly calls it, to which he appeals 
in extenuation, if not in justification of his conduct. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THEATRICAL AMUSEMENTS. 



In thus ranking theatrical entertainments among the public 
evils,* of which it is proper for a writer on morals to take notice, I 
begin, by saying, that I do not condemn the reading of the standard 



* A resolution of the Revolutionary Congress, passed the 12th of October, 
1778, says, " Whereas true religion and good morals are the only solid foun- 
dations of public liberty and happiness, — Resolved, that it be, and it hereby is, 
earnestly recommended to the several States, to take the most effectual meas- 
ures for the encouragement thereof, and for the suppressing of theatrical enter- 
tainments, horse-racing, gaming, and such other diversions as are productive 
of idleness, dissipation, and a general depravity of manners." Again, on the 
16th of October, they say, " Whereas frequenting play-houses and theatrical 
entertainments has a fatal tendency to divert the minds of the people from a 
due attention to the means necessary for the defence of their country, and the 
preservation of their liberties; Resolved, that any person holding an office under 
the United States, who shall act, promote, encourage, or attend such plays, shall 
be deemed unworthy to hold such office, and shall be accordingly dismissed." 



Chap. VI.] THEATRICAL AMUSEMENTS. 433 

dramatic compositions, either tragedies or comedies. This kind 
of reading can only become injurious when it is pursued to ex- 
cess ; and in this it does not differ from many other things, which 
become faulty only by excess. A large number of dramas, both 
ancient and modern, are well suited to refine the taste, to enlarge 
the knowledge, and, in general, to improve the understanding. 
They contain, also, not a few of the purest moral sentiments, 
expressed in the most striking and beautiful style. They are 
designed to be faithful representations of human life, its employ- 
ments, its manners, its passions, its sorrows, its joys, and even 
its follies. Whatever of good or evil, therefore, human life con- 
tains, may be expected to be delineated in them. The good 
man will find in them nutriment, wherewith to cherish and 
strengthen his virtue ; while the wicked man will find materials, 
with which to uphold himself in his own chosen way. Bishop 
Jeremy Taylor, and other divines of his time, were accustomed 
to quote the ancient tragedies, in illustration of the moral senti- 
ments which they were attempting to enforce in their sermons. 

Nor is it my design to condemn the stage, if it were made 
such as, in the nature of things, we may conceive it might be. 
We may imagine all the pieces represented to be pure in their 
sentiments, and safe in their tendency, all the actors and actresses 
patterns of virtue, and the theatre itself a model of tranquillity, 
sobriety, and good order. Such, however, the theatre never has 
been ; and we may well doubt, whether it ever will be. It is my 
business to deal with it, according to the character, which it has 
always maintained, and which, there is too much reason to be- 
lieve, it will always continue to maintain. With these few 
remarks, intended to guard against misapprehension, I proceed to 
state and illustrate the chief objections, which a vast majority of 
good men have always felt against theatrical entertainments. 

1. The main object of the stage, in every age and country, 
has been mere amusement. Neither instruction nor reforma- 
tion has often been seriously attempted through its instrumen- 
tality. In this respect the modern theatre seems to have degen- 
erated from the ancient ; — the ancient drama seems to have been 
more intent on communicating a salutary moral impression. Still 
in ancient times, as in all other times, the main object of theat- 
55 



434 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

rical representations was amusement. The persons, in every age, 
who have, for the most part, attended them, are the wealthy, the 
fashionable, the young, and the gay ; those who live for pleasure, 
and the very business of whose lives is amusement. The writers 
who have defended them, have generally made their defence to 
consist in attempting to show, that they are an innocent amuse- 
ment, the perfection of the poetic and imitative arts, and that 
they contribute to refine the taste of the audience. Few have 
had the hardihood even to attempt to exalt them into schools of 
virtue, or to represent them as a barrier against vice. Most de- 
fenders have supposed they have done well, by proving that they 
were innocent amusements, without advancing any higher claims 
for them. 

2. Serious Christians, of every name, have, in all ages, been 
unfriendly to theatrical representations, on the ground of their in- 
jurious tendency to good morals. The Catholic and Protestant 
churches have equally taken decided ground against them, accom- 
panied by earnest dissuasives addressed to their members, against 
countenancing them by their attendance. u It is so true," says 
a society of Roman Catholic clergy, " that plays are almost al- 
ways a representation of vicious passions, that the most part of 
Christian virtues are incapable of appearing upon the stage. 
Silence, patience, moderation, wisdom, poverty, repentance, are 
no virtues, the representation of which can divert the spectators ; 
and above all, we never hear humility spoken of, and the bearing 
of injuries. It would be strange, to see a modest and silent re- 
ligious person represented. There must be something great and 
renowned according to men, or at least something lively and ani- 
mated, which is not met withal in Christian gravity and wisdom ; 
and, therefore, those who have been desirous to introduce holy 
men and women upon the stage, have been forced to make them 
appear proud, and to make them utter discourses more proper 
for the ancient Roman heroes, than for saints and martyrs. Their 
devotion upon the stage must, also, be always a little extraor- 
dinary." * 

3. We shall do much towards determining the character and 

* Quoted by Dr. Witherspoon, from an Essay against Plays, by the Messrs. 
de Port Royal, in his Works, Vol. III. p, 57, note. 



Chap. VI.] THEATRICAL AMUSEMENTS. 435 

tendency of the stage, if we consider the character of those who 
resort to, and advocate it, compared with the character of those 
who are unfriendly to, and avoid it. It must be too much matter 
of common notoriety to require any proof, that the ranks of those 
who habitually frequent the theatre, are chiefly made up of those 
classes of society, whose main object in life is pleasure and 
amusement, rather than of those whose chief pursuit is business, 
and who are mainly intent on usefulness, and the quiet and faithful 
discharge of their duty. Still fewer are seen in their ranks, of 
those whose main object is to "use this world as not abusing it," 
and to make it a medium of transition to another and a brighter 
world. I do not say, that good men, and even pious men, are 
never seen at the theatre ; but, when there, they must feel them- 
selves to be out of their proper element, and, in like manner, are 
felt to be out of their proper element by those who see them 
there. 

4. The history of theatrical entertainments shows very clearly, 
that their use is inseparable from their abuse. The argument 
against the use of a thing, derived from its abuse, is not generally 
a good one. Many things have been very much abused, the use 
of which, however, is not only justifiable, but even indispensable. 
There are very few things which are incapable of perversion and 
abuse. Religion itself has sometimes been made a cloak of 
licentiousness. This is a part of the imperfection which is 
stamped on all human affairs. But, when a practice has existed 
from the earliest times, and has always been abused ; when we 
are acquainted with its history, and this history shows that its 
existence is inseparable from its abuse, the conclusion against it is 
sound and perfectly legitimate. Such is the case with theatri- 
cal amusements. The advocates of theatres always praise " a 
well-regulated theatre " ; but they refer to it as what, in the na- 
ture of things, they think it might be, not as what it is and has 
been. Reasoning as usual, therefore, from what is past to what 
is to come, no man can ever expect to see u a well-regulated 
theatre." * 

* It must have been under the impression, that dramatic representations, if 
under good regulation, might be turned to a good purpose, that the events, tran- 
sactions, and characters of the Bible, and even the most sublime mysteries of 



436 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

5. The stage has in all past time been a school of corrupt 
morals. The profession of an actor has never been considered 
respectable, much less honorable. There has always been a 
moral taint resting upon it. If this had been the case in one or 
a few ages and countries only, it might have been plausibly as- 
cribed to unreasonable prejudices ; but it is the estimate in which 
actors and actresses have been held in all ages and in every 
country. The conviction has been strong and universal, that 
there are circumstances in the profession of an actor, which tend 
to degrade his personal, and especially his moral character. It 
does not belong to me to inquire what the causes are, which tend 
so powerfully to degrade the character of actors, that few have 
escaped their influence. They lead a wandering and unsettled 
kind of life ; they have no very definite prospects before them ; 
their success in their profession does not very much depend 
on their character for moral worth ; their gains are but very 
partially the reward of industry and virtue ; they are subject to 
popular caprice, prejudice, and passion ; to alternate hopes and 

the Christian faith, were, at one time, dramatized by the clergy, and represented 
in public. How extensive those representations were in Italy, France, England, 
and other Christian countries, in the thirteenth and succeeding centuries, is 
well known to every one who is familiar with the history of literature. The 
scenes, events, characters, and doctrines of Scripture were not only adapted to 
dramatic representation by the clergy, but this was conducted under their 
direction. The churches were used as theatres, in which to exhibit these " sa- 
cred or spiritual dramas," as they were called, and the actors were often, if not 
generally, the clergy themselves. In fitting up and patronizing such repre- 
sentations, the clergy, we may presume, acted from the best possible motives, to 
wit, the desire to communicate religious knowledge, and to impress the great 
scenes, transactions, and doctrines of revelation on the minds of the people, by 
availing themselves of the powerful aid of dramatic representation to effect this 
object, and by thus bringing this most perfect of the imitative arts into the ser- 
vice of religion. Still, with such motives, and under the direction of the hierar- 
chy, powerful as it was in those days, the inherent vices of all representations 
of this kind were found to cling to them, and they were gradually relinquished, 
from the conviction that they were worse than useless. Architecture, music, 
poetry, painting, and statuary have all been brought into the service of religion, 
and have greatly contributed to its hold on the respect and affections of man- 
kind ; but it has been proved, after a full and fair actual experiment, that neither 
religion nor morals have any good to expect from any kind of dramatic repre- 
sentations. (See Bouterwek's History of Spanish and Portuguese Literature, 
Vol.1, pp. 501-521; Vol.11, pp. 89 -99; Sismondi, La Litterature du Midi 
de l'Europe, Vol.1, pp. 337-349; Edinburgh Encylopsedia, art. Drama.) 



Chap. VI.] THEATRICAL AMUSEMENTS. 437 

fears, excitements and depressions ; they live by a dependence 
on the ever-shifting breath of popular applause ; — these must be 
among the causes which tend to degrade them. It is this de- 
gradation which has excluded them, for the most part, from the 
pale of respectable society. Occasionally, an individual has suc- 
cessfully resisted the natural tendencies and influences of the 
profession, and has, by his talents and personal virtues, vindi- 
cated his claim to be admitted into the best circles of society. 
But these individuals have been few and far between, and are 
manifest exceptions to the general fact, which, when affirmed of 
the great body of the profession, admits of no question. 

6. Again, the theatre is a school of corruption in respect to those 
who attend on its entertainments. If none but the young, the 
gay, the wealthy, and the fashionable were to be seen there ; 
although good might not be expected, yet the hazard of much 
evil might be avoided. But far other classes of persons are 
accustomed to make the theatre their habitual place of resort. 
Of all places, this is the one in which evil communications 
most emphatically, and most extensively, corrupt good manners.* 
To corrupt and to be corrupted is, with many who resort there, 
the order of the day. Opportunities and facilities of contamina- 
tion, of every kind, are at hand. The spendthrift is there ; they 
" that tarry long at the wine, and are mighty at strong drink," 
are there ; the gamester leaves his habitual haunts to be there ; 
the pickpocket is there. All u the lovers of pleasure more 
than lovers of God " delight to congregate there. f Moreover, 
" the young man void of understanding," J is there. Finally, the 
theatre is the favorite resort of " the strange woman, who for- 
saketh the guide of her youth, and forgetteth the covenant of her 
God ; whose house inclineth unto death, and whose guests are 
in the depths of hell ; who hath cast down many wounded ; by 
whom many strong men have been slain ; whose house is the way 
to hell, going down to the chambers of death." § Such are 
the chief objections, which the great body of serious Christians 
have urged against theatres and theatrical amusements. 

* 1 Cor. xv. 33. t 2 Tim. iii. 4. t Prov. vii. 7. 

§ Prov. ii. 16-38; ix. 18 ; vii. 26, 27. 



438 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 



CHAPTER VII. 

IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM. 

Lord Herbert, the first and purest of the English deists, 
who flourished in the beginning of the reign of Charles I., did 
not so much impugn the doctrine or the morality of the Scrip- 
tures, as attempt to supersede their necessity, by endeavouring to 
show, that the great principles of the unity of God, of a moral 
government, and a future world, are taught with sufficient clear- 
ness by the light of nature. Bolingbroke and some of his suc- 
cessors advanced much further, and attempted to invalidate the 
proofs of the moral character of the Deity, and consequently all 
expectations of rewards and punishments ; leaving the Supreme 
Being no other perfections, than those which belong to a first 
cause, or Almighty contriver. After him, at a considerable dis- 
tance, followed Hume, the most subtile, if not the most philo- 
sophical of the deists ; who, by perplexing the relation of cause 
and effect, boldly aimed to introduce a universal skepticism, and 
to pour a more than Egyptian darkness into the whole region of 
morals. Since his time, skeptical writers have sprung up in 
abundance, and infidelity has allured multitudes to its standard ; 
the young and superficial by its dexterous sophistry ; the vain 
by the literary fame of its champions, and the profligate by the 
licentiousness of its principles. Atheism, the most undisguised, 
has at length begun to make its appearance in this country. 

My object in this connexion is not so much to evince the 
falsehood of skepticism as a theory, as to prove its mischievous 
effects, contrasted with those which result from the belief of a 
Deity and a future state. The subject, viewed in this light, may 
be considered under two aspects, the influence of the opposite 
systems ; I. On the principles of morals; II. On the formation 
of character. The first may be styled their direct, the latter 
their equally important, but indirect consequence and tendency. 

I. The skeptical or irreligious system subverts the whole 



Chap. VII.] IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM. 439 

foundation of morals. It may be assumed as a maxim, that no 
person can be required to act contrary to his greatest good, or 
his highest interest, comprehensively viewed in relation to the 
whole duration of his being. It is often our duty to forego our 
own interest partially ; to sacrifice a smaller pleasure for the sake 
of a greater ; to incur a present evil in pursuit of a distant good of 
more consequence. In a word, to arbitrate among interfering 
claims of inclination, is the moral arithmetic of human life. But 
to risk the happiness of the whole duration of our being, in any 
case whatever, would be foolish, were it possible ; because the 
sacrifice must, by the nature of it, be so great as to preclude the 
possibility of compensation. 

As the present world, on skeptical principles, is the only place 
of recompense, whenever the practice of virtue fails to promise 
the greatest sum of present good, cases which often occur in 
reality, and much oftener in appearance, every motive to virtuous 
conduct is superseded ; a deviation from rectitude becomes the 
part of wisdom ; and, should the path of virtue, in addition to this, 
be obstructed by disgrace, torment, or death, to persevere would 
be madness and folly, and a violation of the first and most essen- 
tial law of nature. Virtue, on these principles, being in number- 
less instances at war with self-preservation, never can, or ought 
to become a fixed habit of the mind. 

The system of infidelity is not only incapable of arming virtue 
for great and trying occasions, but leaves it unsupported in the 
most ordinary occurrences. In vain will its advocates appeal to 
a moral sense, to benevolence, and sympathy ; for it is unde- 
niable, that these impulses may be overcome. In vain will they 
expatiate on the tranquillity and pleasure attendant on a virtuous 
course ; for, though you may remind the offender, that in disre- 
garding them he has violated his nature, and that a conduct con- 
sistent with them is productive of much internal satisfaction ; yet 
if he replies that his taste is of a different sort, that there are 
other gratifications which he values more, and that every man 
must choose his own pleasures, the argument is at an end. Re- 
wards and punishments, assigned by infinite power, afford a pal- 
pable and pressing motive, which can never be neglected without 



440 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

renouncing the character of a rational creature ; but tastes and 
relishes are not to be prescribed. 

A motive in which the reason of man shall acquiesce, enforcing 
the practice of virtue at all times and seasons, enters into the 
very essence of moral obligation. Modern infidelity supplies no 
such motives ; it is, therefore, essentially and infallibly, a system 
of enervation, turpitude, and vice. This chasm in the construc- 
tion of morals, can only be supplied by the firm belief of a re- 
warding and avenging Deity, who binds duty and happiness, 
though they may seem distant, in an indissoluble chain ; without 
which, whatever usurps the name of virtue is not a principle, 
but a feeling ; not a determinate rule, but a fluctuating expedient, 
varying with the tastes of individuals, and changing with the 
scenes of life. 

Nor is this the only way in which infidelity subverts the foun- 
dation of morals. All reasoning on morals presupposes a dis- 
tinction between inclinations and duties, affections and rules. 
The former prompt, the latter prescribe. The former supply 
motives to action ; the latter regulate and control it. Hence it 
is evident, if virtue have any just claim to authority, it must be 
under the latter of these notions ; that is, under the character of 
a law. It is under this notion, in fact , that its dominion has ever 
been acknowledged to be paramount and supreme. , Without the 
intervention of a superior will, it is impossible there should be 
any moral laws, except in the lax metaphorical sense in which we 
speak of the laws of matter and motion. 

Two consequences, the most disastrous to society, will inevit- 
ably follow the general prevalence of this system ; 1. the fre- 
quent perpetration of great crimes, 2. the total absence of great 
virtues. 

1. In those conjunctures which tempt avarice or inflame 
ambition, when a crime flatters with the prospect of impunity, 
and the certainty of immense advantage, what is to restrain an 
atheist from its commission ? To say that remorse will deter 
him is absurd ; for remorse, as distinguished from pity, is the 
sole offspring of religious belief, the extinction of which is the 
great purpose of the infidel philosophy. 



Chap. VII.] IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM. 441 

The dread of punishment or infamy from his fellow-creatures 
will be an equally ineffectual barrier ; because crimes are only 
committed under such circumstances as suggest the hope of con- 
cealment ; not to say, that crimes themselves will lose their infa- 
my and their horror under the influence of that system, which 
destroys the sanctity of virtue by converting it into a low calcu- 
lation of worldly interest. Here the sense of an ever-present 
Ruler, and of an avenging Judge, is of the most awful and indis- 
pensable necessity ; as it is that alone, which impresses on all 
crimes the character of folly as well as criminality ; shows that 
duty and interest in every instance coincide, and that the most 
prosperous career of vice, the most brilliant successes of crimin- 
ality, are but an accumulation of wrath against the day of wrath, 
and revelation of the righteous judgment of God. * 

As the frequent perpetration of great crimes is an inevitable 
consequence of the diffusion of skeptical principles, so, to under- 
stand this consequence in its full extent, we must look beyond 
their immediate effects, and consider the disruption of social ties, 
the destruction of confidence, the terror, suspicion, and hatred, 
which must prevail in that state of society in which barbarous 
deeds are familiar. The tranquillity which pervades a well- 
ordered community, and the mutual good offices which bind its 
members together, are founded on an implied confidence in the jus- 
tice, humanity, and moderation of those among whom we dwell. 
So that the worst consequence of crimes is, that they impair the 
stock of public charity and general humanity. The dread and 
hatred of our species would infallibly be grafted on a conviction 
that we were exposed every moment to the surges of an unbri- 
dled ferocity, and that nothing but the power of the magistrate 
stood between us and the daggers of assassins. In such a state, 
laws, deriving no support from public manners, are unequal to 
the task of curbing the fury of the passions ; which, from being 
concentrated into selfishness, fear, and revenge, acquire new 
force. Terror and suspicion beget cruelty, and inflict injuries 
by way of prevention. Pity is extinguished in the stronger im- 
pulse of self-preservation. The tender and generous affections 
are crushed ; and nothing is seen but the retaliation of wrongs, 

* Romans ii. 5. 

56 



442 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

and the fierce and unmitigated struggle for superiority. This is 
but a faint sketch of the incalculable calamities and horrors we 
must expect, should we be so unfortunate as ever to witness the 
triumph of modern infidelity. 

2. This system is a soil as barren of great and sublime virtues, 
as it is prolific in crimes. By great and sublime virtues, are 
meant those, which are called into action on great and trying oc- 
casions, which demand the sacrifice of the dearest interests and 
prospects of human life, and sometimes of life itself ; the virtues 
in a word, which, by their rarity and splendor, draw admiration, 
and have rendered illustrious the character of patriots, martyrs, 
and confessors. It requires but little reflection to perceive, 
that whatever veils a future world, and contracts the limits of exist- 
ence within the present life, must tend, in a proportionable degree, 
to diminish the grandeur and narrow the sphere of human agency. 
As well might we expect exalted sentiments of justice from a 
professed gamester, as look for noble principles in the man whose 
hopes and fears are all suspended on the present moment, and 
who stakes the whole happiness of his being on the events of 
this vain and fleeting life. If he be ever impelled to the per- 
formance of great achievements in a good cause, it must be 
solely by the hope of fame ; a motive, which, besides that it 
makes virtue the servant of opinion, usually grows weaker at the 
approach of death ; and which, however it may surmount the 
love of existence in the heat of battle, or in the midst of public 
observation, can seldom be expected to operate with much force 
on the retired duties of a private station. 

In affirming that infidelity is unfavorable to the higher class of 
virtues, we are supported as well by facts, as by reasoning. It 
is not my wish to load infidels with unmerited reproach ; but to 
what history, to what record, will they appeal for the traits of 
moral greatness exhibited by their disciples ? Where shall we 
look for the trophies of infidel magnanimity or atheistical virtue ? 
Not that it is intended to accuse them of inactivity ; they have, 
during the last and present century, filled the world with the 
fame of their exploits ; exploits of a different kind, indeed, but 
of imperishable memory and disastrous lustre. 

It is very true, that great and splendid actions are not the 



Chap. VII.] IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM. 443 

ordinary employment of life, but must, from their nature, be re- 
served for extraordinary occasions ; yet that system is essentially 
defective which leaves no room for their existence. They are 
important, both from their immediate advantage and their remote 
influence. They sometimes save, and always render illustrious, 
the age and nation in which they appear. They raise the stand- 
ard of practical morals ; they arrest the progress of degeneracy ; 
they diffuse a lustre over the path of life. Monuments of the 
greatness of the human mind, they present to the world the au- 
gust image of virtue in her sublimest form, from which beams of 
light and glory issue to remote times and ages ; while their com- 
memoration by the pen of historians and poets awakens, in dis- 
tant bosoms, the sparks of kindred excellence. 

Combine the frequent and familiar perpetration of atrocious 
deeds with the dearth of great and generous actions, and we have 
the exact picture of that condition of society which completes 
the degradation of the species ; the frightful contrast of dwarfish 
virtues and gigantic vices, where every thing good is mean and 
little, and every thing evil is rank and luxuriant. A dull and 
sickening uniformity prevails, broken only at intervals by volcanic 
eruptions of anarchy and crime. 

II. Hitherto we have considered the influence of skepticism 
on the principles of virtue, and endeavoured to show, that it de- 
spoils it of its dignity, and lays its authority in the dust. Its 
influence on the formation of character comes now to be consid- 
ered. The actions of men are oftener determined by their 
character than by their interest ; their conduct takes its color 
more from their acquired tastes, inclinations, and habits, than 
from a deliberate regard to their greatest good. It is only on 
great occasions, that men are accustomed to take an extended 
survey of their future course, and that they suffer the dictates 
of reason to give a new direction to their movements. The ac- 
tions of each day are, for the most part, links which follow each 
other in the chain of habit. Hence, the great effort of practical 
wisdom is, to imbue the mind with right tastes, affections, and 
habits, — the elements of character and the springs of action. 

1. The exclusion of a Supreme Being, and of a superintending 
Providence, tends directly to the destruction of moral taste. It 
robs the universe of all finished and consummate excellence, even 



444 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

in idea. The admiration of perfect wisdom and goodness, for 
which we are formed, and which kindles such unspeakable rap- 
ture in the soul, rinding in the regions of skepticism nothing to 
which it corresponds, droops and languishes. Revelation, by 
displaying the true character of God, affords a pure and perfect 
standard of virtue ; heathenism, one in various respects defective ; 
the skepticism of late times, which excludes the belief of all su- 
perior powers, affords no standard at all. According to this 
system, human nature knows nothing higher or more excellent 
than itself. All above and around it being shrouded in darkness, 
and the prospect confined to the tame realities of this life, virtue 
has no room to expand itself; nor are any excursions permitted 
into that unseen world, the true element of the great and good, 
by which it is fortified with motives equally calculated to satisfy 
the reason, to delight the fancy, and to impress the heart. As 
this part of the subject, however, has been illustrated elsewhere, 
it will not be enlarged upon in this connexion.* 

2. Modern infidelity not only tends to corrupt the moral taste ; 
it also promotes the growth of those vices which are the most 
hostile to social happiness. Of all the vices incident to human 
nature, the most destructive to society are vanity (egotism), fe- 
rocity, and unbridled sensuality ; and these are precisely the vices 
which infidelity is calculated to nourish. 

That the love, fear, and habitual contemplation of a Being 
infinitely exalted, or, in other terms, devotion, is adapted to pro- 
mote a sober and moderate estimate of our own excellences, is 
incontestable ; nor is it less evident, that the neglect or exclusion 
of devotion must be favorable to pride. The criminality of 
pride will not, perhaps, be very readily admitted ; for, though 
there is no vice more opposite to the spirit of Christianity, yet 
there is none, which, even in the Christian world, has, under 
various pretences, been treated with so much indulgence. 

There is, it will be confessed, a delicate sensibility to charac- 
ter, a sober desire of reputation, a wish to possess the esteem of 
the wise and good, felt by the purest minds, which is at the 
farthest remove from arrogance or vanity. The humility of a 
noble mind scarcely dares to approve of itself, until it has se- 

* See above, pp. 65 - 67. 



Chap. VII.] IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM,. 445 

cured the approbation of others. Very different is that restless 
desire of distinction, that passion for theatrical display, which 
inflames the heart and occupies the whole attention of vain men. 
This, of all the passions, is the most unsocial, avarice itself not 
excepted. The reason is plain. Property is a kind of good 
which may be more easily attained, and is capable of more minute 
subdivisions, than fame. In the pursuit of wealth, men are led, 
by an attention to their own interest, to promote the welfare of 
each other ; their advantages are reciprocal ; the benefits which 
each is anxious to acquire for himself, he reaps in the greatest 
abundance from the union and connexions of society. The pur- 
suits of vanity (egotism) are quite contrary. The portion of 
time and attention which mankind are willing to spare from their 
vocations and pleasures, to devote to the admiration of each 
other, is so small, that every successful adventurer is felt to have 
impaired the common stock. The success of one is the disap- 
pointment of multitudes. For, though there be many rich, many 
virtuous, many wise men, fame must necessarily be the portion 
of but few. Hence every vain man, every man in whom vanity 
is the ruling passion, regarding his rival as his enemy, is strongly 
tempted to rejoice in his miscarriage, and repine at his success. 

Besides, as the passions are seldom seen in a simple, unmixed 
state, so vanity, when it succeeds, is converted into arrogance ; 
when it is disappointed (and it is often disappointed), it is 
exasperated into malignity, and corrupted into envy. In this 
case, the vain man commences a determined misanthropist. 
He detests that excellence he cannot reach. He detests his 
species, and longs to be revenged for the unpardonable injus- 
tice he has sustained, in their insensibility to his merits. He 
lives upon the calamities of the world ; the vices and miseries of 
men are his element and his daily bread. Virtues, talents, and 
genius are his natural enemies ; which he persecutes with in- 
stinctive eagerness and unrelenting hostility. Such a disposition 
issues from the dregs of disappointed vanity, a disease which 
taints and vitiates the whole character, wherever it prevails. It 
forms the heart to such a profound indifference to the welfare of 
others, that, whatever appearances he may assume, or however 
wide the circle of his seeming virtues may extend, the vain man 



446 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

will infallibly be found to be his own centre. Attentive only to 
himself, absorbed in the contemplation of his own perfections, 
instead of feeling tenderness for his fellow-creatures as members 
of the same family, as beings with whom he is appointed to act, 
to suffer, and to sympathize, he considers life as a stage on which 
he is performing a part, and mankind in no other light than spec- 
tators. Whether he smiles or frowns, whether his path is 
adorned with the rays of beneficence, or his steps are dyed in 
blood, an attention to self is the spring of every movement, and 
the motive to which every action is to be referred. 

Nor is a mind inflated with vanity (egotism) more disqualified 
for right action than for just speculation, or better disposed to the 
pursuit of truth than to the practice of virtue. To such a mind, 
the simplicity of truth is disgusting. Careless of the improvement 
of mankind, and intent only upon astonishing with the appearance 
of novelty, the glare of paradox will be preferred to the light of 
truth ; opinions will be embraced, not because they are just, but 
because they are new ; the more flagitious, the more subversive 
of morals, the more alarming to the wise and good, the more wel- 
come to men who estimate their literary powers by the mischief 
they produce, and who consider the anxiety and terror they im- 
press, as the best measure of their renown. Truth is simple and 
uniform, while error may be infinitely varied ; and, as it is one 
thing to start paradoxes, and another to make discoveries, we 
need the less wonder at the prodigious increase of modern phi- 
losophers. 

We have been so much accustomed to consider extravagant 
self-estimation merely as a ridiculous quality, that many will be 
surprised to find it treated as a vice pregnant with serious mis- 
chief to society. But, to form a judgment of its influence on the 
manners and happiness of a nation, it is necessary only to look at 
its effects in a family ; for bodies of men are only collections of 
individuals, and the greatest nation is nothing more than an ag- 
gregate of a great number of families. Conceive of a domestic 
circle, in which each member is elated with a most extravagant 
opinion of himself, and a proportionable contempt of every other 
member ; is full of little contrivances to catch applause, and, 
whenever he is not praised, is sullen and disappointed. What a 



Chap. VII.] IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM. 447 

picture of disunion, disgust, and animosity would such a family 
present. How utterly would domestic affection be extinguished, 
and all the purposes of domestic society be defeated. The 
general prevalence of such dispositions must be accompanied by 
an equal proportion of general misery. 

The same restless and eager vanity which disturbs a family, 
when it is permitted to mingle with political affairs, distracts a 
kingdom or commonwealth ; infusing into those intrusted with the 
enactment of laws, a spirit of rash innovation and daring empiri- 
cism, a disdain of the established usages of mankind, a foolish 
desire to dazzle the world with new and untried systems of 
policy, in which the precedents of antiquity and the experience 
of ages are only consulted to be trodden under foot ; and into the 
executive department of government, a fierce contention for 
preeminence, an incessant struggle to supplant and destroy, with 
a propensity to calumny and suspicion, proscription and mas- 
sacre. The nature and progress of vanity, and its kindred pas- 
sions, were more strikingly displayed in the French revolution 
than they have ever been elsewhere ; a revolution, which, viewed 
in its true light, ought to be contemplated as a grand experiment 
on human nature. 

If such be the mischiefs, both in public and private life, result- 
ing from an extravagant self-estimation, it remains next to be con- 
sidered whether Providence has supplied any medicine to correct 
it ; for, as the reflection on excellence, whether real or imagina- 
ry, is always attended with pleasure to the possessor, vanity is a 
moral disease, deeply seated in human nature. 

Humility, cherished under an habitual sense of the Divine pres- 
ence and of our sinfulness in the sight of God, evinced by hearty 
repentance, is the appointed antidote to this disease of our nature. 
Humility is, in truth, the most precious fruit of religion. In the 
teaching of our Saviour, there is no maxim so frequent as the 
following ; " Whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased, and he 
that humbleth himself shall be exalted." Religion, and that alone, 
teaches absolute humility ; by which is meant, a sense of our ab- 
solute nothingness in the view of infinite greatness and excel- 
lence. That sense of inferiority, which results from the compari- 



448 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

son of men with each other, is often an unwelcome sentiment 
forced upon the mind, which may rather embitter the temper than 
soften it ; — that, which devotion impresses, is soothing and de- 
lightful. The devout man loves to humble himself at the foot- 
stool of his Creator, because it is there that he attains the most 
lively perceptions of the Divine excellence, and the most tranquil 
confidence in the Divine favor. In so august a presence, he 
sees all distinctions lost, and all beings reduced to the same level. 
He looks at his superiors without envy, and at his inferiors with- 
out contempt ; and, when from this elevation he descends to mix 
in society, the conviction of superiority, which must in many in- 
stances be felt, is a calm inference of the understanding, and no 
longer a restless, importunate, and absorbing passion. 

Again, ferocity and inhumanity of character were enumerated 
as another effect of skeptical impiety. As it has already been 
shown, that vanity and its accompanying kindred passions harden 
the heart, and that religion (humility) is the only effectual antidote, 
the connexion between irreligion and inhumanity is, in this view, 
obvious. But there is another light, in which this part of the 
subject may be viewed, in my judgment, much more important, 
though seldom adverted to. The belief, that man is a moral and 
accountable being, destined to survive the stroke of death, and to 
live in a future world in a never-ending state of happiness or 
misery, makes him a creature of incomparably more consequence, 
than the opposite belief. When we consider him as placed here 
by an Almighty Ruler in a state of probation, and that the pres- 
ent life is his period of trial, the first link in a vast and intermin- 
able chain which stretches into eternity, he assumes a character 
of dignity in our eyes. Every thing which relates to him be- 
comes interesting ; and to trifle with his happiness is felt to be 
the most unpardonable levity. If such be the destination of man, 
it is manifest, that in the qualities which fit him for it, his princi- 
pal dignity consists ; — his moral greatness is his true greatness. 
Let the skeptical principles be admitted, which represent him, on 
the contrary, as the offspring of chance, connected with no supe- 
rior power, and sinking into annihilation at death, and he is a 
contemptible creature, whose existence and happiness are alike 



Chap. VII.] IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM. 449 

insignificant. The characteristic difference is lost between him 
and the brute creation, from which he is no longer distinguished, 
except by the vividness and multiplicity of his perceptions. 

If we reflect on that part of our nature which disposes us to 
humanity, we shall find, that, where we have no particular attach- 
ment, our sympathy with the sufferings, and concern for the de- 
struction, of sensitive beings, are in proportion to their supposed 
importance in the general scale ; or, in other terms, to their 
capacity for intelligence and enjoyment. We feel, for example, 
vastly more at witnessing the destruction of a man, than of an 
inferior animal, because we consider it as involving the extinction 
of a vastly greater sum of intelligence and happiness. For the 
same reason, he who would shudder at the slaughter of a large 
animal, will see, without a pang, a thousand insects perish. Our 
sympathy with the calamities of our fellow-creatures is adjusted by 
the same measure. We feel more powerfully affected with the dis- 
tresses of fallen greatness than with equal or greater distresses suf- 
fered by persons of inferior rank ; because, having been accustom- 
ed to associate with an elevated station the idea of superior happi- 
ness, the loss appears to us the greater, and the wreck the more 
extensive. But the disproportion in importance between man 
and the meanest insect is not so great, as that which subsists be- 
tween man considered as mortal^ and as immortal; that is, between 
man as he is represented by the system of skepticism, and by 
that of Divine revelation ; for the enjoyment of the meanest insect 
bears some proportion, though a very small one, to the present 
happiness of man ; but the happiness of time bears none at all 
to that of eternity. The skeptical system, therefore, sinks the 
importance of human existence to an inconceivable degree. 

From these principles results the following important practical 
inference, — that to extinguish human life by the hand of violence 
must be quite a different thing in the eyes of a skeptic, from what 
it is in those of a Christian. With the skeptic, it is nothing 
more than diminishing by one the many millions of fugitive and 
contemptible creatures, which exist on the earth. The Christian 
sees, in the same event, an accountable being cut off from a state 
of probation, and hurried, perhaps unprepared, into the presence 
of his Judge, to hear that final, that irrevocable sentence, which 
57 



450 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

is to fix him for ever in an unalterable condition of felicity or woe. 
The former perceives in death nothing but its physical circum- 
stances ; the latter is impressed with the magnitude of its moral 
consequences. It is the moral relation which man is believed to 
bear to a superior power, the awful idea of accountability, the 
influence which his present dispositions and actions are conceived 
to have upon his eternal destiny, more than any superiority of 
intellectual powers, abstracted from these considerations, which 
invest him with such mysterious grandeur, and constitute the 
firmest guard on the sanctuary of human life. 

As the advantage of the armed over the unarmed, is not seen 
until the moment of attack, so in that tranquil state of society in 
which law and order maintain their ascendency, it is not perceiv- 
ed, perhaps not even suspected, to what an alarming degree the 
principles of modern infidelity leave us naked and defenceless. 
But, let the state be convulsed, let the mounds of regular authori- 
ty be once overflowed, and the still, small voice of law drowned 
in the tempest of popular fury, (events which the experience of 
the present century shows to be possible,) it will then be seen 
that atheism is a school of ferocity and barbarism ; and that, hav- 
ing taught its disciples to consider mankind as little better than a 
nest of insects, they will be prepared, in the fierce conflicts of 
party, to trample upon them without pity, and extinguish them 
without remorse. 

Having shown that the principles of infidelity facilitate the 
commission of crimes, by removing the restraints of fear ; and 
that they foster the arrogance of the individual, while they incul- 
cate the most despicable opinion of the species ; the inevitable 
result is, that a haughty self-confidence, a contempt of mankind, 
together with a daring defiance of religious restraints, are the 
natural ingredients of the atheistical character. Nor is it less 
evident that these are, of all others, the dispositions which most 
forcibly stimulate to violence and cruelty. We may, therefore, 
settle it in our minds, as a maxim never to be effaced or forgot- 
ten, that atheism is an inhuman, sanguinary, ferocious system, 
equally hostile to every useful restraint, and to every virtuous 
affection ; that leaving nothing above us to excite awe, nor around 
us to awaken tenderness, it wages war with heaven and with 



Chap. VII.] IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM. 451 

earth ; its object is to dethrone God, its tendency is to destroy 
man. 

There is a third vice, not less destructive to society than either 
of those which have been already mentioned, to which the sys- 
tem of modern infidelity is favorable ; that is, unbridled sensuali- 
ty ; the licentious and unrestrained indulgence of those passions 
which are essential to the continuation of the species. The 
magnitude of those passions, and their supreme importance to the 
existence, as well as the peace and welfare of society, have ren- 
dered it one of the first objects of solicitude with every wise 
legislator, to restrain them by such laws, and to confine their 
indulgence within such limits, as shall best promote the great 
ends for which they were implanted. 

Among innumerable benefits, which the world has derived from 
the Christian religion, a superior refinement in the sexual senti- 
ments, a more equal and respectful treatment of women, greater 
dignity and permanence conferred on the institution of marriage, 
are not the least considerable ; in consequence of which, the 
purest affections and the most sacred duties are grafted on the 
stock of the strongest instincts. If the recorded sentiments and 
feelings of the leading champions of infidelity are examined, it will 
be seen to be their aim to rob mankind of these benefits, and 
throw them back into a state of gross and brutal sensuality. * 

Under every possible aspect in which infidelity can be view- 
ed, it extends the dominion of sensuality ; it repeals and ab- 
rogates every law by which Divine revelation has, under such 
awful sanctions, restrained the indulgence of the passions. The 
disbelief of a supreme, omniscient Being, which it inculcates, 
releases its disciples from an attention to the heart, from every 
care but the preservation of outward decorum ; and the ex- 
clusion of the dearest affections and an unseen w T orld leaves 
the mind immersed in visible, sensible objects. The religious 
affections and sentiments are, in fact, and were intended to be, 
the proper corrective and antidote of sensuality, the great de- 
liverer from the thraldom of the appetites, by opening a spirit- 

* Such examination has been made by the late President D wight, in two Ser- 
mons on Infidelity. 



452 SPECIAL PUBLIC EVILS. [Part VI. 

ual world, and inspiring hopes and fears, and consolations and 
joys, which bear no relation to the material and sensible universe. 
The criminal indulgence of the sensual passions admits but of 
two modes of prevention ; the establishment of such laws and 
maxims in society as shall render lewd profligacy impracticable or 
infamous, or the infusion of such principles and habits as shall 
render it distasteful. Human legislatures have encountered the 
disease in the first, the truths and sanctions of revealed religion 
in the last, of these methods ; to both of which the advocates of 
modern infidelity are equally hostile. 

The infidels of late times, therefore, have aimed to destroy 
the very substance of morals. The disputes on moral questions, 
hitherto agitated among philosophers, have respected the grounds 
of duty, not the nature of duty itself; or they have been merely 
metaphysical, and related to the history of moral sentiments in 
the mind, the sources and principles from which they were most 
easily deduced ; — they never turned on the quality of those dis- 
positions and actions, which were to be denominated virtuous. 
In the firm persuasion that the love and fear of the Supreme 
Being, the sacred observance of promises and oaths, reverence 
to magistrates, obedience to parents, gratitude to benefactors, 
conjugal fidelity, and parental tenderness, were primary virtues, 
and the chief support of every commonwealth, they were unani- 
mous. # The curse denounced upon such as remove ancient 
landmarks, upon those who call good evil, and evil good, put 
light for darkness, and darkness for light ; who employ their facul- 
ties to subvert the eternal distinctions of right and wrong, and 
thus to poison the streams of virtue at their source, falls with 
accumulated weight on the advocates of modern infidelity, f 

* See above, pp. 6 - 11. 

t This chapter consists almost entirely of an abridgment of the language and 
a condensation of the sentiments of the late Rev. Robert Hall's celebrated " Ser- 
mon on Modern Infidelity." It cannot be unknown to my readers, that within 
a few years, skepticism, of the grossest kind (Atheism), has raised its offensive 
head in Boston, New York, and some other of our large cities. Once let it be- 
come strong enough, and proof will not be wanting of its destructive tendency 
and influence. 



CONCLUSION. 

REVIEW OF THE MEANS WHICH MAY BE RELIED 
UPON TO IMPROVE THE MORAL CONDITION OF 
MANKIND, AND TO ADVANCE HUMAN HAPPINESS. 

The relations, which mankind sustain to God, to their country, 
and to one another, have now been carefully surveyed, and the 
moral duties arising from these relations have been explained ; 
so far as was consistent with the limits of an elementary treatise 
on Moral Philosophy. The personal duties of mankind, that is, the 
duties which they owe to themselves, have been illustrated. The 
moral principles, practices, influences, and tendencies of the 
chief professions and employments of life, so far as regards the 
moral duties which they involve, have, likewise, been reviewed. 
Certain duties and virtues, too, of a character peculiarly Chris- 
tian, and certain vices and evils of a public nature which severely 
afflict mankind, have been specially considered and elucidated. 

It seems natural and appropriate to bring my labors to a con- 
clusion, by inquiring, I. into the best practical means of improv- 
ing the moral condition of mankind, and, II., into the best practi- 
cal means of advancing human happiness. 

I. There are several practical means, on which we may rely, 
to improve the moral condition of mankind. 

1. First and principally, we must rely, for the extension of sound 
moral principles and practice among mankind, on the extension 
of Christianity, by the stated preaching of the Gospel where it is 
now known, by the labors of missionaries where it is unknown, 
and by the use of the press in circulating the Scriptures, and other 
religious books and tracts. Christianity has done much, very much, 
already, for the moral renovation of mankind. It is compared, 
by its Divine author, to leaven, gradually making its way until it 
has leavened the entire mass subjected to its influence. * Every 

*Matt. xiii. 33. 



454 CONCLUSION. 

nation on earth will eventually be blessed by its purifying and ren- 
ovating moral triumphs. It has diminished the horrors and ca- 
lamities of war. The spirit of war, wherever Christianity has 
been unknown, has been a relentless and sanguinary vengeance, 
knowing not how to be satisfied but by the destruction of its vic- 
tim. This fell spirit has, in a good measure, been softened in 
the conduct of modern warfare. It has meliorated the calamitous 
lot of captives. Anciently, death, slavery, or an enormous ran- 
som, was their customary doom everywhere ; and this still con- 
tinues to be the case in all countries not Christian. In arbitrary 
governments, it has relaxed the stern rigor of despotic sway. 
It has suppressed infanticide. It has secured the life and limbs 
of the slave against the caprice or passion of a tyrannical master. 
By securing the frequent periodical recurrence of a day of rest, 
it has elevated the character and meliorated the condition of the 
laboring classes of every Christian country. It has restored the 
wife, from a condition of humiliation and servitude, to be the 
companion, the associate, the confidential adviser and friend of 
the husband. It has restored marriage to the standard ordained 
cc at the beginning," the indissoluble union of two individuals, 
and has thus furnished the only reasonable security for domestic 
tranquillity, and the suitable nurture and education of children. 
Under its influence, the combats of gladiators, the impurities of 
superstitious rites and unnatural vices, are no longer tolerated. 
The poor, the sick, and the forsaken are relieved by the numer- 
ous hospitals and asylums, which are provided in all countries in 
which its authority is acknowledged. Moreover, it has been 
chiefly instrumental in rendering the nations of Christendom su- 
perior, in virtue, freedom, intelligence, and power, to all the other 
nations of the earth. Nor are we to estimate its principal bene- 
fits by what is visible. " The kingdom of God cometh not with 
observation ; " — it does not consist in external splendor ; its 
chief influence is unseen, renewing and sanctifying the hearts of 
the multitude, who throng the obscure and humble walks of life. * 
It is admitted, for it cannot in candor and truth be denied, 

* See the author's Sermon , before the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal 
Church of the Diocese of South Carolina, 13th of February, 1833; pp. 23, 24, 
2d edition. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. 455 

that much immorality remains in Christian countries, amidst the 
meridian lustre of Christianity. Still the 'prevailing tone and 
tendency of things, in Christian countries, is favorable to religion 
and virtue. The ascendency is manifestly on the side of sound 
principles and sound morals. Vice, when practised, is shy and 
shamefaced, and is compelled to seek concealment, — it does 
not venture to appear in open day. Not so, however, in coun- 
tries where Mahometanism and heathenism have absolute sway. 
Seneca says, of his own times, cc All is full of criminality and 
vice ; indeed, much more of these is committed than can be 
remedied by force. A monstrous contest of abandoned wicked- 
ness is carried on. The lust of sin increases daily ; and shame 
is daily more and more extinguished. Discarding respect for all 
that is good and sacred, lust rushes on, wherever it will. Vice no 
longer hides itself. It stalks forth before all eyes. So public 
has abandoned wickedness become, and so openly does it flame 
up in the minds of all, that innocence is no longer seldom, but has 
wholly ceased to exist." # 

Professor Tholuck (of the University of Halle in Germany) 
has lately, with admirable diligence, candor, and learning, review- 
ed the origin, nature, and moral influence of heathenism ; the 
estimate made of heathenism, by the heathen themselves ; the 
heathenism of the Greeks and Romans, in particular ; the influ- 
ence of heathenism upon the lives of heathens, particularly among 
the Greeks and Romans ; the heathen philosophy, as it existed 
in the time of Christ ; and the moral influence of the study of 
classical literature. He has demonstrated, with extraordinary 
fulness of learning and research, — that heathenism and its con- 
sequent vices, as St. Paul says, sprung from mankind, when they 
knew God, not glorifying him as God, nor being thankful to him 
as such, but substituting, for the glory of the immutable God, the 
image of the form of perishable man, of birds, of beasts, and of 
creeping things, f — that, with few exceptions of countries and 
individuals, (among the former, placing the Roman common- 
wealth in its earlier times, and among the latter, placing Socrates 
in the foremost rank,) the most unbridled, indiscriminate, and 

* De Ira, II. 8. t Romans i. 17 - 32. 



456 CONCLUSION. 

disgusting licentiousness was not only openly practised, but 
publicly encouraged, excited, sanctioned, and facilitated, by the 
customs and institutions of heathenism, — that the heathen were 
accustomed to justify themselves in their abominations, by the 
example of their divinities, as is shown by the writings of the 
ancients, — that the moral and educated heathen well understood, 
that their religion was vastly more efficacious in calling forth sin, 
than in subduing its power, — that heathenism almost inevitably 
led to the grossest superstition on the part of the common people, 
and to unbelief, contempt, and disgust on the part of the educat- 
ed, — that the number of the gods in Greece and Rome, up to 
the coming of Christianity, was continually increasing, and the 
superstitious worship of them, the multitude of their priests, tem- 
ples, and rites had increased beyond measure, — that, the more 
abominable vice and licentiousness became, on the one hand, the 
more did men yield themselves up, on the other, to superstition, 
in order to quiet conscience and appease their divinities, — and, 
finally, that heathenism was absolutely without power to elevate 
mankind to a condition of freedom, purity, and happiness, — on 
the contrary, that during its sway, the vices and sufferings of the 
human race were continually increasing.* Such, too, is a cor- 
rect picture of modern heathenism, as testified to by those who 
have been within the sphere of its influence, and witnessed its 
abominations. f 

Moreover, wherever the influence of Christianity has been cast 
aside, wherever infidelity has gained the ascendency, it is matter 
of history, that the desecration of every thing pure in morals, as 
well as sacred in religion, has been the consequence. And, in 
concluding this part of my argument, I again avail myself of the 
aid of Professor Tholuck, who has skilfully and forcibly com- 
pared the effects of infidelity and heathenism on the morals of 
mankind. 

" In the French revolution," says he, " when the people 
made a public renunciation of the God that had created and re- 
deemed them, all the vices became prevalent of which human 

* See Robinson's Biblical Repository for 1832, especially pp. 81, 82, 107, 250, 
251, 263, 264, 284, 285, 443, 444, 459, 462. 463, 465, 467. 
t See the Missionary Herald, passim. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 457 

beings, who have broken loose from the holy God of Christians, 
are capable ; but still never did this abandonment, even in its 
wildest intoxication, proceed to such excesses as appear through- 
out the whole succession of the Roman emperors. An emperor 
who fought naked before the people, at the shows of the gladia- 
tors, like several of the Roman emperors ; an emperor who 
established a brothel in his palace, and required the toll to be 
paid to himself, like Caligula ; an emperor who drove through the 
streets of his capital with his naked mistress, like Nero ; an 
empress who publicly commended herself to the coarsest lovers, 
and exposed her embraces for sale, like Messalina ; an emperor 
who first dishonored his sister and then put her to death, like 
Commodus ; an emperor who distributed the highest offices ac- 
cording to the greater or less degree of capacity for licentious- 
ness, like Heliogabalus ; emperors, who caused persons to be 
killed in sport, for the sake of seeing them die ; who caused 
bridges to be suddenly broken down, that they might enjoy the 
sight of a multitude of people sinking in the waves, — such rulers, 
had not even degenerate (though Christian) Byzantium ; — for, 
only when centuries shall have obliterated every vestige of 
Christianity in the world, and in the hearts of men, is it possible 
that such enormities should be perpetrated." * Well may we 
rely, therefore, for the preservation and extension of good morals, 
on the preservation and strengthening of Christianity, in countries 
where it is now acknowledged and respected ; and on the propa- 
gation of its blessed influence in those countries, throughout the 
earth, which still sit in the shadow and darkness of heathenism 
and Mahometanism. 

2. Next to Christianity, and as her most natural and effective 
ally, associate, and handmaid, we must rely on the influence of 
knowledge for the preservation and advancement of the cause of 
good morals. In truth, the moral habits, which the pursuit of 
knowledge has a tendency to create and foster, form one of its 
chief recommendations. Knowledge is, essentially and directly, 
power ; but is also, indirectly, virtue. And this it is in two 
ways. It can hardly be acquired without the exertion of several 

* Robinson's Biblical Repository, for 1832, p. 462. 
58 



458 CONCLUSION. 

moral qualities of high value ; and, having been acquired, it nur- 
tures tastes, and supplies sources of enjoyment, admirably adapted 
to withdraw the mind from degrading and corrupting pleasures. 
Some distinguished scholars, no doubt, have been bad men ; but 
we do not know how much worse they might have been, but for 
their love of learning, which, as far as it did operate upon their 
characters, could not have been otherwise than beneficial. A 
genuine relish for intellectual enjoyments is naturally as inconsist- 
ent with a devotion to the coarser gratifications of sense, as the 
habit of assiduous study is with that dissipation of time, of thought, 
and of faculty, which a life of vicious pleasure implies.* 

It is not known to me, that the salutary tendency of education 
and knowledge has ever been questioned in this country, from 
any respectable quarter ; but it has lately been called in question 
in England, under circumstances calculated to arrest attention. 
In a debate on prison discipline, in the House of Lords, on the 
20th of June, 1834, Lord WharnclifFe stated it as his opinion, 
" that the moral effect of popular education had been unfavorable 
in every country ; and, in support of this opinion, he referred to 
the report of the French Commissioners on the state of education 
in the United States. He said, these Commissioners declared 
it to be the result of their inquiry, that the more knowledge was 
diffused the more crime was increased. This they attributed to 
the circumstance, that knowledge created wants among the hum- 
bler classes, which the perpetration of crime alone could gratify. 
Knowledge multiplied social relations ; it produced a desire for 
social enjoyments ; and the means of cultivating those relations, 
and indulging in those enjoyments, could not be honestly ob- 
tained by the lower classes in their present condition. Such 
was the opinion of the French Commissioners. He was very 
much afraid, he said, that those gentlemen were right, and that, 
the greater the diffusion of education in the country, the greater 
was the temptation to crime. He by no means doubted, that a 
proper discipline of the mind in youth was highly advantageous, 
but he very much doubted if the mere acquisition of knowledge, 
as such, was so. Of this he was certain, and he said it with re- 

* Library of Entertaining Knowledge, Vol. VIII. Part I. p. 1. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 459 

gret, that the kind and degree of education which had hitherto 
been introduced into this country (England), had not had the 
effect of diminishing crime." 

In the same debate, Lord Melbourne said, in reply, " that it 
was not to be made a charge against the church, against the 
schools and universities of the country, against mechanics' insti- 
tutes and societies, that they had not produced what, in such a 
state of society, was an impossibility ; to wit, perfect purity and 
virtue. His noble friend (Lord Wharncliffe) had said, he did 
not perceive that any of those advantages had resulted from edu- 
cation which had been anticipated, nor did he expect that any of 
those advantages would flow from it in future. But, in saying 
this, he had not made any distinction between education and the 
objects to which it was directed. The object of education was 
the diffusion of knowledge, and knowledge, as they were justly 
told, was power. But power of itself was neither good nor bad, 
but beneficial or disadvantageous, according as it was used or ap- 
plied. Knowledge itself did not secure virtue, and they knew 
by melancholy examples, that the possession of the highest men- 
tal endowments, and the most cultivated intellect, did not (always) 
save the possessors from the stains of immorality and vice. 
Bonis Uteris Gr&cis imbutus, bonam mentem non induerat. The 
effects resulting from education, must depend on the nature and 
object of the education. If the education given were such as to 
give the lower orders opinions above their situation, and to im- 
part to them a distaste for labor, it would be the most fatal and 
destructive gift which could be presented to them, — an apple 
from the tree of death. But, if the education given to them were 
such, as to teach them the necessity of labor, and of conforming 
themselves to their situations in life, he could have no doubt that 
education, based upon such principles, and conducted in such a 
manner, would be productive of the most advantageous results." 

On the same occasion, Lord Brougham (then Lord Chancel- 
lor) said, " it was very possible, that the diminution of crime 
had not borne that proportion which sanguine men expected, to 
the progress of improvement in society. But this circumstance 
ought not to fill them with despair, with apprehension for the fu- 
ture, or regret for their past efforts, or even make them disin- 



460 CONCLUSION. 

clined to continue those efforts in the same direction. The 
question in this case was, whether the increase of knowledge, the 
more general diffusion of it amongst all classes of the community, 
tended to prevent the commission of crime ? He was far from 
being able to come to the conclusions, which had been somewhat 
more dogmatically stated, than he should have expected, in the 
report of two French gentlemen sent out by the French king, 
' that it was now universally admitted, that those parts of the world 
where knowledge was most diffused were not the most exempt 
from crime, but rather the contrary. ' Who ever expected, that 
increasing the knowledge of the community would immediately 
and directly have the effect of diminishing crime ? Whoever 
did entertain such an expectation, had no right to complain of 
disappointment, when he found the effect did not follow his meri- 
torious labors, because he had formed groundless and unreasona- 
ble expectations. The tendency of knowledge, that is, its ulti- 
mate tendency, was, to improve the habits of the people, to 
better their principles, and to amend all that constitutes their 
character. Principles and feelings, combined, make up what is 
called human character. And that the tendency of knowledge 
is, to amend this character by the operation of knowledge, and 
in proportion to its diffusion, there can be no doubt. Its ten- 
dency is," continued the Lord Chancellor, u to increase habits 
of reflection, to enlarge the mind, and render it more capable of 
receiving pleasurable impressions from, and taking an interest in, 
matters other than mere sensual gratification. This process 
operates likewise on the feelings, and necessarily tends to im- 
prove the character and conduct of the individual, to increase 
prudential habits, and to cultivate, in their purest form, the feel- 
ings and affections of the heart. Now," he said " it hardly re- 
quired any illustration from fact, or any demonstration from 
reasoning, to show, that the consequences of such a change 
in the human character must inevitably be, to diminish crime. 
The effects of knowledge are not new ; they were well known 
to the ancients, who had said the same thing in much better 
words ; 

' Emollit mores nee sinit esse feros.' 

" Knowledge increases the prudential habits, and improves the 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 461 

feelings and dispositions. That it is the tendency of education 
to diminish crime, is not matter of argument, but of fact. Let 
any man go into the gaols, and examine into the condition of the 
criminals, whether they were well-educated or not ; and he 
was perfectly certain, that the well-educated would be found to 
form a very small proportion indeed of the criminals under ap- 
prehension, and a smaller still of those under conviction. But 
the way in which this mistake had been committed was this, — 
that, in reference to this question, knowledge and education had 
been too frequently confounded. It often happened, that what 
was taken for instruction and education, was merely the first step 
towards it ; and many persons were considered as educated, who, 
in reality, were possessed of nothing worthy the name of knowl- 
edge and instruction. Reading, writing, and accounts have, 
during the last thirty years, too often been held to imply educa- 
tion. A person possessed of these, may, indeed, have the means 
of educating himself; but it does not, by any means, follow, 
that he will exercise these means. 

" It is too much to assume," continued he, u that, because in 
the agricultural districts, where fewer means of education exist, 
crime is not so abundant as in the better educated and most 
thickly populated manufacturing districts, therefore education 
has no influence in diminishing crime. No one ever said, that 
reading meant instruction and education ; still less did any one 
ever say, that reading alone would produce the effects of instruc- 
tion. His noble friend (Lord Melbourne) who spoke last, and 
who had spoken so eloquently, had entirely expressed his views. 
Knowledge is power, in whatever way it is used ; but whether 
that power will be available to virtue, depends on the hind of 
education which may be given. If a people be educated without 
any regard to moral instruction, it is only putting instruments 
into their hands, which they have every motive to misuse. But 
it is asked, Why does not education put a stop to the commis- 
sion of crime ? Education certainly exercises a great influence 
over the moral character ; but he never yet heard it asserted, that 
knowledge (of itself) would alter the nature of the human being, 
or convert him into something of a higher or purer order than the 
ordinary race of mortality." 



462 CONCLUSION. 

Such are the well-matured observations of three of the lead- 
ing minds of the times in which we live, on the relation of educa- 
tion and knowledge to the formation and preservation of character. 
They seem to me, in a masterly manner, and in very brief 
terms, to do full justice to the subject. They show, that educa- 
tion and knowledge are not always a sufficient guaranty against 
the commission of crime, but are mighty instruments for either 
good or evil, according as they are directed ; and that the great 
object of education ought to be, the cultivation of the moral 
feelings, habits, and character. 

There appears no reason to doubt, that crime is increasing in 
Great Britain and Ireland ; * and there is too much reason to be- 
lieve, that this is the case in the United States. The tendency 
of the age is almost entirely physical, mechanical, and utilitarian, 
not moral and religious, — and moral education has been too 
much neglected, both in this country and in England. Our best 
educated men must be conscious of this defect in their education, 
if they will reflect on the subject. While, in our universities 
and colleges, the classical, physical, mathematical, and physico- 
mathematical chairs are ably filled, and a large portion of several 
years is devoted to instruction in these sciences, a small portion 
of time, perhaps a single session, or more probably a remnant of 
a session, is assigned to the study of moral philosophy. This 
physical and mechanical tendency of our times, ought to be 
firmly resisted and counteracted ; otherwise it threatens to draw 
every thing within its sway, and to overwhelm whatever of the 
intellectual, the moral, and the religious still remains to us. 

3. Next to the reforming and purifying influence of Chris- 
tianity, and the elevating and conservative tendency and effect of 
knowledge, we must rely upon the progress of freedom, main- 
tained by well-regulated free governments and free institutions, 
for the improvement of morals. Nor is this view of the bene- 
ficial influence of general (political) freedom new, — it is at 
least as ancient as Longinus. This celebrated author observes, 
that almost all distinguished writers had been born and flourished 

* See the American Almanac for 1837, pp. 69-72; Walsh's National Gazette, 
19th and 21st of August, 1834. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF FREEDOM. 463 

in free States, and that this class of men became extinct with the 
extinction of freedom in every country. " Freedom," says he, 
" is fitted to nourish high thoughts, to inspire energy and vigor 
of mind, and a healthful tone of moral feeling." The encour- 
agement, too, with which talents and character are rewarded in 
countries where free institutions prevail, is an incitement to those 
exertions, without which the best natural abilities must waste 
away and perish. He complains, that in his time (the third 
century), every thing was imbued with a spirit of (political) ser- 
vitude ; that not being permitted to taste of freedom, which he 
calls the most natural and beautiful fountain of intellectual excel- 
lence, the authors of his time were qualified for nothing but adu- 
lation and grandiloquence. He compares them, under the with- 
ering influence of the servile times in which they lived, to the 
fabulous dwarfs, whose growth was hindered by their being kept 
constantly enclosed in cases (/AwTroxo^aTa) , and whose limbs were 
contracted by binding them strongly in swathing-bands. He calls 
all despotism the prison of the mind, and quotes the celebrated 
saying of Homer, — " that servitude takes away half the virtues 
of the man." # 

The position now under discussion, has always been acknowl- 
edged, and ever assumed, both in this country and in Great 
Britain, the principal countries in which free institutions have 
permanently flourished, and, therefore, does not seem to require 
further illustration. 

4. The effectual prohibition of gaming of every kind, of the 
lottery system, of the ordinary manufacture and sale of spirituous 
liquors, and the general discouraging of theatres, would contribute, 
beyond measure, to advance the cause of good morals. Gaming, 
intemperate drinking, and the spirit of lottery adventure ruin im- 
mense numbers directly, — they indirectly bring many more to 
their ruin. They are the great avenues which lead to " the broad 
road to destruction," which are thronged by the young, the rash, 
and the inexperienced, as well as by the hardened, the unprinci- 
pled, and the profligate, and from which, having once entered, 
they very seldom return. The constant or frequent attendance, 

* De Sublimitate, Sect. 44. — Odyssey, XVII. 322. 



464 CONCLUSION. 

too, on theatrical amusements, is a waste of time and substance, 
a most unwarrantable exposure to temptation, a countenancing of 
folly, extravagance, and sin, and has been the occasion of the fall 
of multitudes, never to rise again. All these are the younger 
branches of the great family of evils and vices ; — they have a 
most intimate relationship with infidelity, suicide, duelling, unbri- 
dled debauchery, and abandoned profligacy, assassination, and 
every enormity and atrocity which can degrade and ruin mankind. 

5. But, above all, we must rely for the improvement of morals, 
on correcting public opinion through the press, the pulpit, and 
every other suitable instrument, which can be brought to bear on 
the subject. 

The press not only makes known public opinion, it does much 
to form and guide it. It has been continually augmenting in effi- 
ciency from the first invention of printing, and has now become 
11 the most powerful engine, for good or for evil, on earth. It 
checks, controls, and governs the mighty men of the nations, and 
preserves the rights and freedom of mankind. It leads the way 
to reformation, to scientific and practical improvement, to good 
manners and morals, and to all the blessings of social life." Men, 
who have neither " feared God nor regarded man," have been 
overawed by the animated and sustained assaults made by litera- 
ture, and especially by the periodical press. Among the many 
instances which might be adduced to illustrate this remark, the 
case of the late celebrated Emperor of the French is ; perhaps, 
the most striking and instructive. With an ascendency over 
nearly all Europe, he had succeeded in silencing the Continental 
press by intimidation and menace. But the British press was 
still free, its voice was still heard above the tumults of war and 
convulsion of every kind. It was the only earthly power which he 
did not feel himself strong enough to silence, or set at defiance. 

u He attached, at all times," says Sir Walter Scott, "much 
importance to the influence of the press, which, in Paris, he had 
taken under his own especial superintendence, and for which he 
himself often condescended to compose or correct paragraphs. 
To be assailed, therefore, by the whole body of the British 
newspapers, almost as numerous as their navy, seems to have 
provoked him to the extremity of his patience." Again, he says, 



INFLUENCE OF THE PRESS AND THE PULPIT. 465 

" Bonaparte entertained a feverish apprehension of the effects of 
literature on the general mind, — the public journals were under 
the daily and constant superintendence of the police, and their 
editors were summoned before Fouche (the Minister of Police) 
when any thing was inserted which could be considered as disre- 
spectful to his authority. Threats and promises were liberally 
employed on such occasions, and such journalists as proved re- 
fractory were soon made to feel, that the former were no vain 
menaces. The suppression of the offensive newspaper was often 
accompanied by the banishment or imprisonment of the editor. 
The same measure was dealt to authors, booksellers, and publish- 
ers, respecting whom the jealousy of Bonaparte amounted to a 
species of disease." # 

Such is the press, — and it is well for all those whose influ- 
ence consists in the use of it, whether as authors or publishers, 
to understand, in its full measure, the mighty power of the instru- 
ment which they are accustomed to wield, and for the rightful 
employment of which they are morally responsible. The Em- 
peror of the French, in the very zenith of his success, a success 
unrivalled, perhaps, in the history of the world, heard with anxi- 
ety, alarm, and dismay its tone of rebuke and reprobation, al- 
though couched in a foreign language, and coming from a foreign 
country. When we consider, therefore, that the private and pub- 
lic conduct of the great mass of mankind is regulated by no 
higher standard of morals than is required by the force of public 
opinion, and that public opinion is moulded and directed, as well 
as declared, chiefly by the press, we may understand how im- 
measurably important it is, that it should raise a voice, clear, 
decided, unshrinking, and well-sustained, on the side of good 
morals. 

The pulpit, in Christian countries, is a means of moral influ- 
ence and efficiency, whose value it is not easy to estimate too 
highly. Of the fifteen millions of inhabitants, which this country 
contains, a very large proportion are in the habit of listening to 
weekly pulpit instruction ; and the portion thus instructed, by 
reason of their superior education, morals, and general under- 

* Life of Napoleon, Vol. I. p. 500; Vol. II. p. 17. 
59 



466 CONCLUSION. 

standing, are accustomed to wield a commanding influence over 
those who are strangers to the moral and religious influence im- 
parted by the pulpit. The pulpit, too, has a manifest advantage 
over the press, in respect to its use of the living voice, with which 
to make impression and convey instruction ; in respect to its 
having an assembly drawn together on a day specially consecrated 
to the purpose of its instructions, and whose attention, therefore, 
is neither absorbed by the allurements of pleasure, nor by the 
cares and perplexities of business ; and, again, in respect to morals 
and religion being the province, which it is its office specially to 
guard, illustrate, and enforce. And it may well be doubted, 
whether the pulpit has ever yet availed itself of the full measure 
of " its legitimate, peculiar powers," to give effective moral and 
religious instruction to mankind. Its efficiency must depend on 
the education, piety, and devotedness of the Christian ministry. 

II. It only remains, that I give a very brief review of the 
best practical means of advancing human happiness. 

In general terms, it may be said, that every thing promotive of 
good morals, is preeminently productive of happiness. In this 
view, Christianity, as it is the basis and sanction of Christian 
morals, is more effective than any, or every, other means of ad- 
vancing the welfare of mankind. Again, knowledge is happiness, 
as well as power and virtue, — happiness, both in the acquisition 
and in the possession. And were the pursuit of it nothing more 
than an amusement, it would deserve the preference over all 
other amusements, for many reasons. Of these, indeed, the 
chief is, that it must, almost of necessity, become superior to a 
mere amusement ; it must invigorate the mind as well as entertain 
it, and refine and elevate the character, while it gives to listless- 
ness and weariness their most agreeable excitement and relaxa- 
tion. But, omitting this consideration, it is still of all amuse- 
ments the best, for other reasons. So far from losing any part 
of its zest with time, the longer it is known, the more it is loved. 
There is no other pastime that can be compared with it in varie- 
ty. Even to him who has been longest conversant with it, it has 
still as much novelty to offer as at first. It may be resorted to 
by all, in all circumstances ; by both sexes, by the young and the 
old, in the city and in the country, by him who has only his 



INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE AND FREEDOM. 467 

stolen half hour to give to it, and by him who can give it the live- 
long day, in company with others, or in solitude, which it con- 
verts into the most delightful society. 

Above all, it is the cheapest of all amusements, and conse- 
quently, the most universally accessible. Reading is emphatically 
the poor man's luxury ; for it is, of all luxuries, that which can 
be obtained at the least cost. Still the rich man is not without 
his advantages in this, as in other things. He may prosecute the 
business of mental cultivation to a much greater extent, than the 
poorer and middle classes of society. He has, if he chooses, 
a degree of leisure and freedom from interruption, greatly ex- 
ceeding what the generality of men enjoy. Others have seldom 
more than the mere fragments of the day to give to study, after 
the bulk of it has been consumed in procuring merely the bread 
that perisheth ; he may make literature and philosophy the voca- 
tion of his life. To be enabled to do this, or to do it only in 
small part, many have willingly embraced comparative poverty in 
preference to riches. Among the philosophers of antiquity, 
some are said to have spontaneously disencumbered themselves 
of their inheritances, that the cares of managing their estates 
might not interrupt their philosophic pursuits. * 

Moreover, political freedom is a most fertile source of happi- 
ness, if we may judge from the ardor with which it has been 
coveted, and the costly sacrifices of time and labor, of blood and 
treasure, which men have been ready to make, for the sake of 
obtaining it. The encouraging, elevating, and inspiriting effects 
ascribed to freedom by Longinus, have already been adverted to, 
as also the discouraging, dispiriting, and deteriorating tendency 
of despotism. The union of liberty with order is, indeed, a 
treasure, which cannot well be prized too highly. In this alone, 
are to be found the stability of governments, the prosperity of 
nations, the confidence of men of business, the regular employ- 
ment of husbandmen, the improvement of the arts, and the steady 
growth of a people in knowledge, virtue, and happiness. Anar- 
chy and confusion are the severest forms of tyranny. Freedom, 
the most precious inheritance of nations, is itself chiefly valuable 

* See Library of Entertaining Knowledge, Vol. VIII. Part 1. pp. 2-4. 



468 CONCLUSION. 

because it gives the only true security to person, property, and 
character ; security in action and in repose, security in the exer- 
cise of industry and in the enjoyment of its fruits, security alike 
from the oppression of a ruler and the annoyance of an evil- 
disposed neighbour, security in the expression of opinion and in 
the conscientious discharge of the duties of religion. This is 
the true union of " Principatus ac Libertas " ; the freedom of 
the people united with the just authority of the government ; 
public order and tranquillity made consistent with the supremacy 
of the law ; the golden medium between two extremes ( u res 
dissociabiles " ), in which Aristotle supposed all virtue to con- 
sist, and which the philosophical historian, Tacitus, contemplated 
as the supreme and ultimate perfection of all government. * 

But it may be useful to do something more, by way of review- 
ing the best practical means of advancing human happiness, than 
to confine myself to general observations on the influence of 
Christianity, knowledge, and freedom, as sources of improvement 
and enjoyment to mankind, which, however important, do not 
exhaust the subject. 

1 . Human happiness may be advanced, by still further inven- 
tions and improvements in labor-saving machinery. 

It may be laid down, as one of the results of experience 
amply sustained by the history of the arts, that mankind have 
advanced in intellectual, social, and moral improvement, in pro- 
portion as their physical condition and circumstances have im- 
proved. And that the physical improvement of mankind has 
been accomplished chiefly by labor-saving machinery, in the most 
extensive use of that phrase, may be easily and abundantly con- 
firmed. At first, men grabbled in the earth with their hands, 
when they had occasion to penetrate its surface, or remove any 
part of it from one place to another, and this practice is not un- 
known in some countries at the present day. f This primitive 
mode of working the earth was soon aided by the sharpened 
stick, which they afterward learned to harden in the fire. With 
this, their rude agriculture was pursued ; and this seems to have 

* Life of Agricola, c. 3. 

t See American Quarterly Review, for September 1834 j p. 225. 



INFLUENCE OF LABOR-SAVING MACHINERY. 469 

been as far as the aborigines of this continent (except the Mexicans 
and Peruvians) had advanced. The interval between the metallic 
spade, the axe, and the hoe, and any implement of husbandry 
which they had made, was, in the progress of invention, immense. 
The invention of the plough and the cart, and the application of 
the strength of animals to agriculture, and to the carrying of 
burthens, was another most important step in advance. These 
were arts of the first necessity, they supplied the primitive wants 
of life, and civilization kept an exact pace with their invention. 

The first garments, too, seem to have been the bark of trees, 
and the skins of wild animals caught in the chase ; consequently 
clothing was too scanty and too filthy to serve the purposes of 
health and decency, to say nothing of comfort and ornament. 
At length, the distaff and the loom were invented, and mankind 
made fresh advances in the career of improvement. Permanent 
means of subsistence, a sufficiency of clothing, and settled habi- 
tations, have almost, if not quite, always preceded any consid- 
erable advances in civilization. 

Again, almost any one of the arts might be taken, and its 
history would be seen to keep an even pace with the improve- 
ment of mankind. The history of the working of iron, for instance, 
and applying it to the purposes of life, would afford the most 
abundant and instructive materials to this effect, if my limits per- 
mitted me to employ them. In truth, in tracing the history of 
our race, there is no clearer index, by which to mark the progress 
of civilization in any given era, than the extent and variety of 
the uses to which this most valuable of the metals was, at that 
time, applied. And its use is extending at this day more rapid- 
ly, perhaps, than at any previous period. Within a very {ew 
years, iron looms, iron roofs, iron steam-boats, and iron roads 
(railways) have been introduced. 

But I must not dismiss this copious part of the subject, with- 
out enlarging still further. The first person who saw the descent 
of water to the ocean, saw, in such descent, the elements of 
water power ; and the first person who saw water boiling, saw, in 
the expansive force of the steam, the elements of steam power. 
But there was a wide interval between the first observation of the 
existence of water power, and even the first of the successive 



470 CONCLUSION. 

men of genius who applied it, each with fresh success, to the 
moving of labor-saving machinery in mills of every description. 
Still wider was the interval between him who first saw water 
boiling, and the invention of the steam-engine, and its successive 
application to manufactures, to navigation, and to travelling, and 
the conveyance of merchandise on land. 

Whether we consider steam-machinery with reference to the 
principles on which it is constructed, or to its multifarious appli- 
cations by which human power has been so vastly augmented, we 
must regard it as the most interesting, the most beneficial, and the 
most wonderful of all the productions of human genius. The 
name of Watt, to whose wisdom, skill, and perseverance we 
are chiefly indebted, for bringing the steam-engine to its present 
state of perfection, and applying it to useful purposes, will be 
associated, in all future times, with this greatest and most success- 
ful triumph of science over physical difficulties. The most ac- 
complished writer of the present century has left us a description 
both of the engine and of its illustrious improver ; and his powers, 
splendid as they were, were no more than adequate to do jus- 
tice to such a subject. I should feel myself to be in the wrong, 
if I were to omit making his description a part of this illustration. 

" He (Mr. Watt) was a man," says Sir Walter Scott, " whose 
genius discovered the means of multiplying our national resources 
to a degree, perhaps, even beyond his own stupendous powers 
of calculation and combination ; bringing the treasures of the 
abyss to the surface of the earth ; giving the feeble arm of man 
the momentum of an afrite ; commanding manufactures to arise, 
as the rod of the prophet produced water in the desert ; affording 
the means of dispensing with that time and tide which wait for no 
man, and of sailing without that wind which defied the commands 
and threats of Xerxes himself. This potent commander of the 
elements, this abridger of time and space, this magician, whose 
cloudy machinery has produced a change in the world, the effects 
of which, extraordinary as they are, are perhaps only now be- 
ginning to be felt, was not only the most profound man of science, 
the most successful combiner of powers and calculator of num- 
bers as adapted to practical purposes, was not only one of the 
most generally well-informed, but one of the best and kindest of 



REFORMATION OF PENAL LAW. 471 

human beings. In his eighty-fourth year, his attention was at 
every one's question, his information at every one's command." * 

It is more than intimated in this passage, that the steam-engine 
was still to receive new developements and new applications ; 
and in this, the anticipations of this great author have not been 
disappointed. In the most improved cotton machinery, we see 
the story of Briareus with his hundred hands more than realized ; 
on the bosom of the ocean, we sail in floating palaces, borne on- 
ward as if by enchantment ; on the land, we fly, as it were, on 
the wings of the wind. These vast inventions and improvements 
in labor-saving machinery, with others which my limits do not 
permit me to mention, have contributed surprisingly to the physi- 
cal comfort of the inferior classes of society, and have given a 
corresponding impulse to their intellectual, moral, and social im- 
provement. 

2. Happiness may also be advanced by the reformation of our 
criminal codes, and by the codification of our law generally, so 
far as the nature of the case and circumstances permit. 

Few subjects are more important, than penal law and the ad- 
ministration of penal justice ; few are beset with greater difficul- 
ties, both theoretical and practical ; and few, if any, in modern 
times, have called forth the talents of more able men. Montes- 
quieu, Beccaria, Voltaire, Dr. Priestley, Lord Kames, Dr. 
Paley, and, more lately, Mr. Bentham, Sir Samuel Romilly, Lord 
Brougham, and Mr. Livingston, have devoted themselves to its 
elucidation. Their writings abound with admirable views and 
philosophical analyses of the whole subject; — still but few of 
them comparatively have yet found their way into practical legis- 
lation. Reformation, however, in this respect, has proceeded 
much further in this country than in Great Britain ; though it 
must be admitted that we have advanced with tardy steps. The 
English criminal law has been long and loudly complained of, for 
its unreasonable severity ; so much so, that juries have habitually 
refused to lend themselves to the execution of its penalties, and, in 
order to turn them aside from the criminal, have taken upon 
themselves to render a verdict inconsistent both with law and 

* Quoted in Brande's Manual of Chemistry, Vol. I. p. 125. London. 1821. 



472 CONCLUSION. 

evidence.* This practice, however unjustifiable in itself, finds 
much palliation in the harshness of the law and its reckless disre- 
gard of human life, and shows how feeble the strongest law is in 
comparison with public opinion. The English penal law has 
lately been somewhat meliorated, but still demands vastly more 
emendation. The Louisiana Penal Code, prepared by the late 
Mr. Livingston, is a noble monument of his genius, industry, and 
enlightened views, and confers honor on the age and country 
which produced it. 

One class of difficulties, in the way of penal legislation, consists 
in prejudices in favor of ancient usage and ancient institutions, 
and against all innovation of whatever kind ; as if ancient times 
were not, as Lord Bacon remarks, by many ages, younger and 
less experienced than the times in which we live. Difficulties of 
another class spring from the character of criminals themselves, 
and from want of a definite acquaintance with the effects of prin- 
ciples and systems which have been tested by trial, and there- 
fore want of adequate grounds of comparing them one with another. 
An enlightened legislator, too, will find a difficulty in determining 
what degree of indulgence is due to those who have generally 
been unfortunate before they became criminal, and to human nature 
itself, however low it may have fallen in the person of the crim- 
inal. Besides, persons innocent of any considerable crime 
cannot fully understand the feelings and state of mind of a crim- 
inal, and, therefore, must have great difficulty in adapting their 
legislation to the motives and other circumstances, which influence 
his conduct. 

Lord Kames has taken the ground, that punishment ought to 
be inflicted on the broad principle of retributive justice, that the 
natural indignation consequent on the commission of crimes, 
ought to be the measure of the punishment ; and, in this position, 
he is earnestly sustained by his biographer, Alexander Fraser 
Tytler (Lord Woodhouselee), in an elaborate argument.f 

Most writers, however, take the ground, that " the object of 



* See the Edinburgh Review, Vol. XIX. , pp. 405, 406. 

t See Life of Lord Kames by the above-named biographer. Vol. I. pp. 302 - 306 ; 
Vol. III. pp. 110 -153. 



REFORMATION OF PENAL LAW. 473 

all punishment is, the prevention of the offence in future ;" yet 
even this is but a narrow and very partial view of the object of 
punishment. Is the criminal himself, as a human being, entitled 
to no regard ? Punishment ought to be invariable, that is, when- 
ever and upon whomsoever inflicted, it ought, under the same 
circumstances to be the same, or always equal to itself; it ought 
to be capable of comparison with other punishments, analogous 
to the crime ; * salutary in the example which it furnishes ; 
economical; remissible. It ought to restrain the convict from 
doing harm, conduce to his reformation, pay its own expenses, 
and, if possible, yield a profit, in the ordinary sense of the term ; 
be simple in its description, and so far popular as to shock none 
of the established feelings and prejudices of the community. 
Perhaps even this enumeration of the qualities, which punishment 
ought to possess, is incomplete. It is well to observe, too, that 
these qualities are not enumerated as all requisite to meet in any 
one mode of punishment, but only as the circumstances which 
ought to be kept in view when a mode of punishing is to be 
chosen. It is almost constantly necessary for the lawgiver to 
make his way amidst opposite difficulties, by making compro- 
mises, and yielding certain advantages, in order to secure others 
of a higher nature, but incompatible with those which he sacrifices. 
So far as punishments are to be adjusted to the crimes intended 
to be prevented, we may trace the limits within which they 

* It is very certain, that a mild punishment is sometimes more effectual to the 
end in view than a severe one ; and to this the analogy (as the term is here used) 
of the punishment to the offence seems considerably to contribute. This may 
be illustrated by citing an instance. It is customary in the British navy to 
give the men permission to go on shore for twenty-four hours at a time, and, if 
they exceed the allowance, to flog them. The fear of this punishment occa- 
sions numerous desertions, as may easily be supposed ; and, in order to prevent 
this evil, many captains refuse to grant permissions at all, however long their 
men may have been kept on board, or at sea. A certain officer fell upon a better 
remedy, by merely changing the, punishment of the lash into one of those de- 
nominated analogical in Mr Bentham's theory of punishments. If any man 
exceeded the limited time of twenty-four hours, he lost his next permission to 0*0 
on shore ; if he exceeded forty-eight hours, he lost two turns, and so forth. The 
experiment succeeded completely ; the offence of remaining too long on shore 
did not become more frequent after the mitigation of the punishment, and de- 
sertions entirely ceased. Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXII. p. 9; Karnes's 
Elements of Criticism, Vol. I. pp, 237 - 240. 

60 



474 CONCLUSION. 

ought to be confined, upon the supposition that the lawgiver uses 
them as counteracting motives to determine men against yielding 
to their criminal propensities. Referring constantly to the subject 
of his operations, to wit, the mind of a person under temptation 
to commit the offence, he must apportion the punishment so as to 
counteract the temptation. To maintain, that men do not calcu- 
late when they commit crime, is quite erroneous, taken as a gen- 
eral position. It would be much nearer the truth to say, that 
no man, however inconsiderate, takes a step of such importance 
as the commission of a criminal act, without some deliberation 
or reasoning. At all events, one consideration is sufficient to jus- 
tify an apportionment of punishments on this principle, even in 
cases where the offence flows from the most vehement passions. 
The knowledge of the punishment forms certain habits of re- 
straint, by operating upon the mind in its cooler moments, 
when the incentives to violent excesses are at a distance ; and a 
general or perpetual bias, thus given, will, in a great majority of 
cases, have its effect at the critical moment of incitement. 

Governed by these views, we may arrive at several conclu- 
sions fundamental in the theory of punishments and of the utmost 
value in penal legislation. 1. The evil of the punishment must 
exceed the advantage arising from the crime ; and under this 
head is comprehended the position, that, generally speaking, 
the stronger the temptation to commit any crime, the more se- 
vere ought to be the punishment ; subject, however, to excep- 
tions in extreme cases, which may easily be imagined. 2. Where 
the criminal act is such as to furnish clear proof of a habit or 
practice, the punishment should be in proportion, not to the gain 
derived from a single offence, but to the probable amount of 
profit reaped from a course of such conduct. 3. An addition 
must be made to the punishment, in order to compensate its 
want of certainty and proximity. Whatever punishment the law 
denounces, ought to be made as certain as the imperfections of 
police and jurisprudence will permit. And it seems a maxim, 
now universally agreed upon, that the certainty of the punishment 
is much more important in preventing crimes than its severity. 
" If it were possible," says Sir Samuel Romilly, " that punish- 
ment, as the consequence of guilt, could be reduced to an abso- 



REFORMATION OF PENAL LAW. 475 

lute certainty, a very slight penalty would be sufficient to prevent 
almost every species of crime, except those which arise from 
sudden gusts of ungovernable passion. If the restoration of the 
property stolen, and only a few weeks, or even a few days, im- 
prisonment were the unavoidable consequence of theft, no theft 
would ever be committed." * 4. In cases where there is a 
temptation to commit different crimes, a more severe punishment 
should of course be denounced against the greater crime. One 
of the strongest arguments against multiplying the more severe 
punishments is deducible as a consequence from this proposi- 
tion. 5. The more pernicious any crime is, the more safely 
may a severe punishment be assigned for the sake of preventing 
it ; a rule, the justness of which, however self-evident, has been 
almost uniformly neglected by legislators. 6. The nominal 
amount of punishment, for the same crime, must often be varied 
at the discretion of the court, according to the circumstances of 
the delinquent, in order to inflict the same real amount of suf- 
fering.! 

Neither the law of England, nor of this country, regards the 
debtor as a criminal, nor ought he to be so regarded, where his 
debts are the result of misfortune and not of misconduct ; still 
such is the position in which he stands before society, when im- 
prisoned for debt, that his case may, not only without violence, 
but on the ground of a close analogy, be brought within the sub- 
ject now under discussion. The most approved arguments, by 
which this practice is usually justified, are, that it is the only ef- 
fectual means of coercing payment ; that provisions of law may 
be devised, by which, while the fraudulent debtor may be se- 
cured and payment coerced, the honest but unfortunate debtor 
may be relieved without much delay ; and, finally, that the rights 
and just claims of the creditor, as well as the complaints and 
clamors of the debtor, ought to be listened to, respected, and 
maintained. These considerations are undeniably entitled to 
much weight. 



* Observations on the Criminal Law of England, quoted in the Edinburgh Re- 
view, Vol. XIX. p, 403. 
t See the Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXII. p. 7. 



476 CONCLUSION. 

Imprisonment for debt has been entirely abolished in many of 
the United States ; in some others, it has been virtually, though 
not formally abolished ; in several of them (Connecticut, New 
Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland), the law still remains un- 
mitigated.* That the law, as it formerly existed in all the States, 
required and imperatively demanded great changes and ameliora- 
tions, can admit of no question ; but how far it can be changed, 
so that, doing no harm, it shall retain all the good which it has 
been accustomed to produce, may admit of just doubt. 

The ground may be very safely taken, that no man, in a free 
country, ought to be imprisoned for a debt of a smaller amount 
than, say, twenty-five dollars exclusive of costs ; that all women, 
from respect to their sex, and all men beyond the age of sixty 
years, ought to be free from imprisonment for debt, whatever the 
sum may be. Some further emendatory provisions of the ancient 
law might, without doubt, be useful, and some have been sug- 
gested from a most respectable quarter, f The importance of 
the ameliorations suggested above, slight as they may appear, 
may be estimated by inspecting the numerous details on this 
subject, which have been published. The details, to which I 
refer, are of a melancholy and painful interest, but my limits do 
not permit me to give even a summary of them. J 

All experience teaches, that it is best to reform gradually. 
A learned judge, who has had very great experience in the ad- 
ministration of criminal law in one of our city courts (the Munici- 
pal Court of Boston), once remarked to me ; "It is impossible 
to remedy all the evils of society ; and, when one evil is believed 
to be cured, another of equal, if not of greater magnitude, is fre- 
quently seen to break forth, in an unexpected quarter." He 
illustrated his remark by stating, that, since imprisonment for debt 
had been abolished, as a means of coercing payment in Massa- 
chusetts, the number of indictments for obtaining goods on false 
pretences had manifestly increased within the jurisdiction of his 
court. 

* See Tenth Report of the Boston Prison Discipline Society, pp. 9, 10. 

1 See Fifth Report of the Boston Prison Discipline Society, p. 54. 

I See " The Penitentiary System of the United States," by Messrs. Beaumont 
and Tocqueville, — Dr. Lieber's translation, p. 183; — and more particularly 
the Reports of the Boston Prison Discipline Society, for the years 1830-1832. 



CODIFICATION OF THE LAW. 477 

The codification of the law, that is, its reduction to an author- 
itative system, is recommended by various considerations, which 
address themselves to every man of patriotic feelings and spirit. 
It seems too plain to admit of argument, that the people who are 
to obey the laws ought, as far as possible, to have the means of 
understanding them. The object of reducing them to a code is, 
to give greater certainty and simplification to the principles of the 
law, to rid its practice more effectually of antiquated forms, to 
make its phraseology more intelligible to persons of good under- 
standing not of the profession, to diminish the expense of its 
administration, and to remove from the minds of the common 
people any jealousy, well or ill founded, which may exist on the 
general subject of the law. That the codifying of the law will 
banish litigation, which proceeds in so many cases from the in- 
firmities of our nature, the imperfection of all language, and the 
infinite variety of circumstances in human affairs, it would be en- 
tirely visionary to expect. But it is confidently believed, that 
by reducing to a uniform and continuous text, and digesting under 
appropriate titles, the mass of scattered laws, litigation may be 
considerably diminished, the administration of justice may be 
facilitated, a knowledge of the law be made more accessible to 
the community generally, and public confidence in the judiciary 
be thereby increased. Such results, and particularly the last, are 
highly desirable. It is not sufficient that the laws should be 
righteously administered ; — in a popular government, like that 
under which it is our happiness to live, it is equally desirable, 
that the tribunals should be strong in the affections of the com- 
munity. The law must he respected as well as obeyed, or it will 
not long be obeyed. It is the judiciary which chiefly brings the 
government within the sight, and home to the interests, of the 
people ; and it is well worthy of consideration, how the confidence 
of the people, in this branch of the government, may be confirm- 
ed, perpetuated, and, if possible, increased.* 

The law is accumulating with a rapidity almost incredible ; and, 
with this accumulation, the labor, both of students and of the pro- 
fessors of the law, is rapidly augmenting. Both are in some 

* See Governor Edward Everett's Message to the Legislature of Massachu- 
setts, June 6th, 1836. 



478 CONCLUSION. 

danger of being buried alive, not in the catacombs, but in the 
labyrinths of the law. Thus, too, it was in ancient times. When 
the Emperor Justinian directed his chancellor, Tribonian, early in 
the sixth century, to associate with him a number of skilful civil- 
ians, and to assume the great task of collecting the entire body of 
the Roman law, which had been accumulating for fourteen centu- 
ries, into one systematic code, he and his associates found this 
law dispersed in two thousand volumes, and in upwards of three 
millions of small tracts or fragments, detached from the writings 
of the sages, which it was necessary to read and understand, in 
order to make the selections. The size of these volumes, and 
the quantity of matter in these tracts and fragments, we cannot 
well ascertain ; but it is by no means probable, that they exceeded 
the quantity of our law, embracing, as it does, the great body of 
the English law. * 

To this state of things there seems to be but one adequate 
remedy, and that is, a digest, under legislative authority, of those 
parts of our jurisprudence, which have become well settled, and 
have otherwise acquired scientific accuracy. We may thus have 
a general code, which will present, in its positive and authorita- 
tive text, the most material rules to guide the lawyer, the states- 
man, and the private citizen. It is obvious, however, that such 
a digest can apply only to the law, as it has been applied to hu- 
man concerns in past times. But by revisions, at periods more 
or less distant, it may be made to reflect all the light, which inter- 
mediate accessions may have thrown upon our jurisprudence. 
To attempt more than this, would be a vain labor. To believe, 
that all human concerns for the future can be provided for in a 
code, speaking a definite language, is to indulge in the theoreti- 
cal extravagances of some philosophical jurists, whose best apol- 
ogy is, their good intentions. 

It will be an achievement worthy of the best endeavours of our 
legislators, statesmen, and lawyers, to reduce the past to order 
and certainty. And we have examples in which this has been 
so triumphantly accomplished, as to put the enterprise beyond 
the reach of cavil. The Pandects of Justinian, to which I have 

* Prsef. ad Dig. § 1. — Kent's Commentaries on American Law, Vol. I. p. 499. 



CODIFICATION OF THE LAW. 479 

before adverted, are a monument of imperishable glory to the 
wisdom of the age in which they were digested ; they gave to 
Rome and to the civilized world a system of civil maxims, which 
has not been surpassed in usefulness and equity; they superseded, 
at once, the immense collections of former times, and left them to 
perish in oblivion. Several of the United States, too, have 
digested their Statute Law to their satisfaction, and in this way 
have made a successful beginning of an undertaking, so desirable 
to be brought to a completion. The modern code of France, 
moreover, embracing, as it does, the entire elements of her juris- 
prudence in the rights, duties, relations, and obligations of civil 
life ; the exposition of the rules of contracts of every sort, in- 
cluding commercial contracts ; the descent, distribution, and reg- 
ulation of property ; the definition and punishment of crimes ; 
the ordinary and extraordinary police of the country ; and the 
enumeration of the whole detail of civil and criminal practice and 
process, is, perhaps, the most finished and methodical treatise of 
law, that the world ever saw. This code forms, also, the law of 
Holland, and, with comparatively few alterations, has been adopt- 
ed by the State of Louisiana, as its fundamental law. 

The opinion is manifestly gaining ground, that it would be 
practicable to incorporate into a uniform code, along with the 
Statute Law, those numerous principles of the Common Law, 
which are definitely settled and well known, and which, without 
being reduced to the form of a positive and written text, have 
been and still are left to be applied by the courts, whenever the 
occurrence of cases requires it. Of this difficult question, it is 
fortunately not required of me to hazard an opinion, as I can cite 
the judgment of another, much more entitled to be heard on this 
subject than myself. Of the modern code of France, Mr. Jus- 
tice Story says, " The materials of it were to be sought for 
among an almost infinite variety of provincial usages and custom- 
ary laws ; and were far more difficult to reduce into system, than 
any which belong to the common law. It is left to the future 
jurists of our country and England to accomplish for the common 
law, what has been so successfully demonstrated to be a practicable 
problem in the jurisprudence of other nations ; a task, which the 
modest but wonderful genius of Sir William Jones did not scru- 



480 CONCLUSION. 

pie to believe to be within the reach of a single mind successfully 
to accomplish." * 

3. The penitentiary system, contemplated as a means of 
meliorating the condition and promoting the welfare of mankind, 
might have been comprised under the view which I have taken of 
our penal jurisprudence, but its intrinsic importance has induced 
me to give it a distinct consideration. The first idea of a reform 
in American prisons belongs to the Quakers of Pennsylvania. 
They had always protested against the very severe laws, which 
the colonies inherited from the mother country. In 1786, they 
succeeded in making their voice heard; and, from this time, the 
punishment of death, mutilation, and the whip were successively 
abolished, in almost all cases, by the Legislature of Pennsylvania. 
In 1797, the reform of Pennsylvania was imitated by New 
York, and has since gradually made its way into favor and been 
adopted by most of the United States.f 

In regard to most of the institutions established in this country, 
we have had the experience of Europe with which to begin ; 
but, in establishing and building up this institution, American as it 
is in its origin, it was inevitable, that many mistakes should be 
made, which a stock of experience would have prevented. At 
first, classification of the criminals was attempted, in order to coun- 
teract the usual effect of their mutually contaminating each other 
when placed in rooms promiscuously. Still this mutual contamina- 
tion was very little, if at all checked. This plan proving a failure, 
new prisons were built, in which a solitary cell was appropriated 
to each convict. This he was not to leave day or night, and all 
labor was denied him in his solitude. No expense was spared 
to render this experiment successful, and the public was impa- 
tient to know the result of the new trials. The northern wing 
of the Auburn (N. Y.) prison having been nearly finished in 
1821, eighty prisoners were placed there, each in a separate 
cell. This trial, from which so happy a result had been antici- 
pated, was fatal to the greater part of the convicts. In order to 

* Miscellaneous Writings, p. 437, to which this and the preceding paragraph 
are otherwise considerably indebted. 

t See Penitentiary System of the United States, by Messrs. Beaumont and 
Tocqueville, — Dr. Lieber's translation, pp. 1-3. 



THE PENITENTIARY SYSTEM. 481 

reform them, they were subjected to complete isolation. But 
this absolute solitude, if there is nothing to alleviate it, is beyond 
the strength of man ; it destroys the criminal without intermis- 
sion and without pity ; it does not reform him, it kills him. The 
deepest depression and melancholy, insanity, despair, and death, 
were the lot of the unfortunate men on whom this experiment was 
made. 

Up to this time, the system of penitentiary discipline was 
nowhere crowned with the anticipated success. Especially this 
last experiment, which had been tried at so much expense, was 
of a nature to put the entire penitentiary system in peril. After 
the melancholy effects of isolation, it would have been a natural 
reaction, to reject the entire penitentiary principle. With a 
perseverance, however, above all commendation, instead of ac- 
cusing the system itself, the blame was laid on its defective exe- 
cution. The idea was not given up, that the solitude, which 
causes the criminal to reflect, exercises a beneficial influence ; 
and the problem now was, to find the means, by which the evil 
effect of total solitude could be avoided without giving up its ad- 
vantages. It occurred, that this end could be attained, by leav- 
ing the convicts in their cells during the night, and by requiring 
them to work during the day in common workshops, obliging 
them at the same time to observe absolute silence. This change 
was introduced in 1823.* 

The establishment at Auburn soon excited public attention, 
in a very high degree. It has met with extraordinary success, 
and has placed the penitentiary system beyond the risk of failure. 
The chaplain (the Rev. B. C. Smith) has described the system, 
as it is seen at Auburn, with equal clearness, beauty, and, I pre- 
sume, truth. 

" It presents itself to us," says he, u with all the advantages 
of an extreme simplicity. It is thought, that two depraved beings 
united, will mutually corrupt each other ; they are, therefore, 
separated. The voice of their passions, or the tumult of the 
world, has bewildered and led them astray ; they are isolated, 
and thus led to reflection. Intercourse with the world had per- 

* Penitentiary System of the United States, &c, pp. 3-6. 

61 



482 CONCLUSION. 

verted them, they are condemned to solitude and silence. Idle- 
ness had depraved them, they are made to labor. Want had 
led them to crime, they are taught a useful art. Intemperance 
had enervated their bodily, mental, and moral powers ; they are 
trained to habits of entire abstinence. Ignorance had held them 
in darkness, by instruction in the Sunday School they are en- 
lightened. Inveterate habits of sin had almost obliterated their 
sense of moral obligation, they are brought under the redeeming 
influence of religious truth. They have violated the laws of 
their country, they endure the punishment of this violation. 
Their lives are protected, their bodies are kept sound and 
healthy ; but their mental suffering is unequalled. They are 
miserable, they deserve to be so. Reformed, they will be 
happy in the society whose laws they will have been taught to 
respect. It is difficult to conceive of a system more perfectly 
and philosophically calculated to secure the great end which it 
has in view. 

cc And what it promises in theory," continues he, " I confi- 
dently affirm, it accomplishes in its practical operation. This I 
should maintain with great confidence, had I no other evidence 
of it than what I find in its apparent effects within the prison 
walls. It does appear to lead the thoughtless to reflection ; the 
reckless, to circumspection ; the vindictive, to a mild and forgiv- 
ing temper ; the lawless and refractory, to habits of cheerful 
obedience ; the intemperate, to a sober determination to abandon 
a course which has led them to infamy and the prison ; the ig- 
norant, to an ardent thirst for instruction ; the irreligious, to a 
clearer view of the obligations, a more conscientious regard for 
the precepts, and a juster appreciation of the hopes and consola- 
tions, of our holy religion." 

Again, he says, " These are confidently claimed to be the 
actual and legitimate effects of the system, as a whole. With- 
out the checks and constraints of its admirable police organiza- 
tion, the religious instructions, I am fully aware, would be of 
little or no avail ; and I am as thoroughly convinced, that, with- 
out the aid of religious influences, the other part of the system 
would fail to produce any radical or permanent changes in the 
character of its subjects. In the combination of both, lies the 



THE PENITENTIARY SYSTEM, 483 

secret of their power. The one, by coercion, suspends the 
operation of vicious influences upon their minds, and holds them 
in a favorable posture to be acted upon by moral motives ; while 
the other pours in upon them the light of truth, and brings to 
bear the great and commanding motives of the Gospel, which 
never fail, when once they gain access, to affect and amend the 
heart." 

Still again ; u It is extremely interesting and gratifying, to wit- 
ness their power, when brought into united operation, in subdu- 
ing some of the most obdurate and desperate of men. Many a 
man who enters the prison with a brow of brass, protesting his 
innocence, swearing revenge, and bracing himself up to go 
through his term with unflinching obstinacy, is soon found weep- 
ing in solitude over his folly, confessing his guilt, voluntarily 
disclosing his secret crimes, professing gratitude for his arrest, 
yielding quietly and cheerfully to a rigid course of discipline, and, 
on leaving the prison, acknowledging with tears, that his impris- 
onment has been his greatest blessing. Something like this is 
the evident effect upon the minds of the convicts, in a great 
majority of instances. The number of those who pass through 
their term of imprisonment unaffected, without any similar 
changes of feeling and purpose, is comparatively small." He 
concludes thus ; " Such," I repeat, cc are the apparent effects of 
the system here ; and we have all the evidence of their reality, 
that the circumstances of the case will possibly admit." 

These statements are sustained by the most convincing evi- 
dence, of which the nature of the case admits, and to which no 
exception can well be taken, to wit, letters written by gentlemen 
of respectability and intelligence, testifying to the habits and 
characters of the discharged convicts. The chaplain states, that 
he has received 449 such letters, and that he has examined them all. 
He classes the convicts thus, — unreformed, 78, — deranged, 3, 
— somewhat improved, 63, — much improved 76, — decidedly 
reformed, and sustaining good characters, 229, — total, 449.* 

The only plan of penitentiary discipline, which at present 
rivals the Auburn plan, is the one adopted by the State of Penn- 

* See Tenth Annual Report of the Boston Prison Discipline Society, pp. 16, 17. 



484 CONCLUSION. 

sylvania, which, in 1829, reformed its system of prison discip- 
line ; having built a new penitentiary near Philadelphia. Ac- 
cording to this plan, the isolation of the convicts is strict and 
perpetual. Each has a distinct cell to himself, in which he la- 
bors, and which he never leaves. No one convict ever sees 
another ; to his former associates, to his relatives, and to all the 
concerns of the world, he is buried alive. The prison is so con- 
structed, that, on Sundays, the prisoners, may by putting their 
ears in a particular position, listen to the voice of a preacher. 

This system has been earnestly advocated by the late Mr. 
Roberts Vaux and Edward Livingston, among many others ; and 
certainly strikes a transient visiter as containing every thing de- 
sirable in a prison, as the writer himself can witness, who saw it 
in the summer of 1835. The late William Roscoe has written 
against the system; but perhaps- it has not yet been long enough 
in operation, to furnish us with results sufficient to institute a de- 
cisive comparison of it with the Auburn plan. Experience is 
the only sure teacher ; — great expectations have been formed of 
this system, but its results, as far as we have them, have not yet 
met those expectations. Perhaps the system may yet be modi- 
fied, so as to accomplish its benevolent ends. Mr. Louis 
Dwight, author of the eleven very valuable reports of the Boston 
Prison Discipline Society, and who has had more experience 
on this whole subject than any other man, insists that this sys- 
tem does not possess the merits which have been customarily 
ascribed to it. He states, that all communication between the 
convicts is not in fact cut off as is generally believed ; that, com- 
pared with the Auburn plan, it is unhealthy already, and may be 
expected to become more so continually ; that it tends to produce 
insanity ; that the superintendent of this prison has resorted to 
(compelled to such a course we may presume) the utmost se- 
verities of discipline, mild measures not sufficing ; that it is infe- 
rior in respect to the earnings of the convicts to the Auburn 
plan ; that, there being no chapel, no Sunday School, and no 
morning or evening prayers, the system does not admit of effec- 
tive moral and religious instruction, and, therefore, that it is infe- 
rior in its reforming power and tendency ; in proof of which, the 
recommitments are more numerous than on the Auburn plan. 



BENEFITS OF INSURANCE. 485 

"Finally," he says, "we have been willing to see it tried ; 
but, the friends of the system being witnesses of its present 
character, we are almost sick of the experiment ; it fails so much 
in health, in reformation, in earnings, and in moral and religious 
instruction." * We may well believe, that any system of dis- 
cipline, so far as reformation of the convicts is concerned, in 
which stated devotional exercises and effective religious in- 
struction are not a fundamental part, must, in a great measure, 
fail of its object. In truth, this conclusion seems to be forcing 
itself on the attention of reflecting men. The inspectors of this 
very Philadelphia Penitentiary, in their last Report to the Legis- 
lature, say, " The Board are constrained, by a sense of duty to 
the commonwealth, as well as to the unhappy persons under 
their care, most respectfully, but urgently, to present this subject 
(the religious instruction of the convicts) again to the attention 
of the Legislature, and to say, that, in our judgment, the benefits 
of the system cannot be fully and completely exhibited without 
a systematic course of religious instruction. Provision is made 
by law for the relief of the body, when diseased ; but there is 
none to minister to the mind, when suffering under the horrors of 
an awakened conscience." f 

4. Another way of promoting the welfare of mankind consists 
in applying the principles of insurance more extensively than they 
have been hitherto applied. Insurance seems to have been un- 
known to the Romans, and all other ancient nations, and not to 
have been introduced into Europe until comparatively late times. 
By the end of the thirteenth century, the Italian States carried 
on a considerable maritime commerce, and it is very probable 
that marine insurance came into use in Italy about that time ; 
from whence it extended itself to other countries of Europe. 
From protection against the perils of the sea, the principle was, 
after considerable delay, applied to guard against the risks of 
disaster by fire. The great benefits of marine insurance, by 
means of which a merchant may safely risk his entire capital in 

* See the Eleventh Annual Report (1836) of the Boston Prison Discipline 
Society, pp. 38 - 40. 

t Ibidem, p. 45. 



486 CONCLUSION. 

hazardous enterprises, and of insurance against fire, are too well 
known and too universally acknowledged to require illustration. 

Insurance against marine risks and against the calamities of fire, 
however, do not require any special applications of the mathe- 
matics ; and it was not until about the middle of the seventeenth 
century, that the doctrine of probabilities (doctrine of chances, 
generally so called by English writers) began to be successfully 
applied to life-insurances, annuities, reversions, he. Establish- 
ments for effecting insurance, of all these various kinds, have long 
been very numerous in France and England, and are continually 
becoming more known in this country. 

It may be well to observe, that prejudices have existed, to 
some extent, against life-insurances, and are believed to exist 
still, among persons whose merits entitle their feelings and opin- 
ions to the most respectful consideration. Their objections 
seem to be referable to two particulars, — to the term, life-insur- 
ance ; as if man were assuming to take the dispensation of life 
and death from the hands of the Almighty, — and to the doctrine 
of chances or probabilities, by which life-insurances, annuities, 
&c, are calculated. Both these difficulties, however, are instantly 
removed, when the true meaning of the terms chance and life- 
insurance, are explained. 

It may be admitted, that the term life-insurance is an unfortu- 
nate one, in some respects ; but let it be called a guaranty that 
a sum of money will be paid at the decease of a person, or termed 
a means of leaving a legacy to a family or heirs, which is its true 
meaning, and it will at once become intelligible to all ; and all rea- 
sonable objection against the term, and against the institution 
itself, must at once vanish. 

So, also, in respect to the term, chance. It is to the imperfec- 
tion of the human mind, and not to any irregularity in the nature 
of things, that our ideas of chance and probability are to be re- 
ferred. Events, which to one man seem accidental and precari- 
ous, to another, who is better informed, or who has more power 
of generalization, appear to be regular and certain. Contingency, 
verisimilitude, probability, and chance are, therefore, the offspring 
of human ignorance, and, with an intellect of the highest order, can- 
not be supposed to have any existence. Chance means an event, 



BENEFITS OF INSURANCE. 487 

or a series of events, not regulated by any law that we perceive. 
Not perceiving the existence of a law, we reason as if there were 
none, or no principle by which a previous state of things deter- 
mines that which is to follow. But the farther our knowledge 
has extended, the more phenomena have been rescued from the 
dominion of chance, and brought within the government of known 
causes, and the farther off have the boundaries of darkness 
and uncertainty been carried. # No such thing, therefore, as 
chance can exist in the Divine mind, nor in the nature of things ; 
still, with respect to us, the term has a real and important mean- 
ing, derived from the relation which our imperfect knowledge 
sustains to the laws by which all things are regulated. The only 
caution to be suggested, is, that we use it with a full knowledge 
of its meaning, and so that it may not exclude from any event 
the Providence of God. 

To the members generally of the three learned professions, to 
every one whose income arises from his own personal exertions 
or talents, to every one having a life income, or receiving a salary 
that will cease at his death ; to every person engaged in commerce, 
manufactures, or any other employment, whose own immediate 
exertions are the support of the establishment in which he is 
engaged ; to persons generally, who have not yet acquired a suf- 
ficiency to leave at their death a comfortable maintenance for 
their wives, children, or dependents, — to all such, and to many 
other classes of persons, who cannot be particularly enumerated, 
life insurance and annuities become a subject of vast importance 
and are well adapted to their situation. Their families are fre- 
quently nurtured in ease and indulgence, and, in a greater or less 
degree, they have been accustomed to the refinements and ele- 
gances of superior society. But their condition is lamentably 
reversed, when death deprives them of their natural protector. 
The comforts of life vanish from around them ; they are unable 
to struggle through the world by the labor of their hands ; and, 
while they mourn the loss of a husband or a father, want, with its 
attendant evils, embittered too by the remembrance of happier 

* La Place, Essai Philosophique sur les Probabilites. — Edinburgh Review, 
Vol. XXIII. pp. 320, 321. 



488 CONCLUSION. 

days, closes upon them and completes their melancholy lot. We 
frequently meet with cases of this description. 

There are few persons, in any of the situations which have 
been described, who, when the subject is brought before them 
and understood, must not be desirous of appropriating some small 
part of their present emoluments or profits, not only with a view 
to secure a suitable provision for their families at their decease, 
but likewise for their own satisfaction, to render their own lives 
easy and comfortable under the pleasing reflection, that they have 
guarded against one of the great evils of a premature death. 

This may well be illustrated by an example. A man is in pos- 
session of an income which enables him to support his family, 
but this income will cease with his life. He is unwilling that the 
subsistence of his wife and children shall depend on an event so 
uncertain as life, and is anxious to raise a fund that will provide 
for their relief upon its failure, say $5,000 ; but his only means 
of raising this fund is by savings from his income. From this, 
he cannot spare more than $125 a year, the usual premium on the 
insurance of $5,000. Upon such scanty means, it is probable 
that he will despair of accumulating the desired sum, and, there- 
fore, will expend that which he might save, in present indulgences. 
Yet, in fact, in about twenty-one years, that annual saving, im- 
proved at compound interest, would realize $5,000 ; and such a 
number of years, a young man has an equal prospect of living. 
This is incontrovertible, as a matter of calculation. Still, in 
practice, it must be confessed, that the case is but too discourag- 
ing. For, first, he will find it extremely difficult to invest the 
small receipts of interest immediately as they arise, so as to give 
them the effect of compound interest. And again, he has an 
equal chance of not living to complete his design. But his ob- 
ject, otherwise so distant and uncertain, is, to all practical pur- 
poses, accomplished, from the moment he effects a life-insurance 
upon this plan. 

It must appear manifest, to all who will examine and consider 
the subject, that if this is not the best, it is at least one of the 
best possible modes that can be devised, for a person wishing to 
set apart a portion of his annual receipts, with a view to make 
some provision for a surviving family. In truth, life-insurance is 



BENEFITS OF INSURANCE. 489 

applicable to the wants of the community in so great a variety of 
ways, that it is difficult to select particular instances, without too 
much difFuseness. A creditor may secure a debt which he may 
be in danger of losing in case of the death of his debtor ; and per- 
sons may secure expectancies which they may have, depending on 
the lives of others, by insuring the lives upon which their interest 
depends. These kinds of insurance, like insurance against fire 
or the perils of the ocean, are wise provisions against the contin- 
gencies of life, and will become more and more common, as pru- 
dence and foresight gain ground in any community. 

Life-insurances ought to be more general than other insurances, 
inasmuch as the event, against which they provide, is certain to 
happen sooner or later ; and there are few, perhaps it might be 
said no cases, in which the insured is not greatly the gainer by 
the transaction. If he has paid, in insurance, nearly or quite the 
amount which is received, it is like so much laid up in a savings 
bank, which might not otherwise have been saved ; and the per- 
son or persons for whose benefit the insurance was effected, the 
insured or his heirs, receiving the full amount at once, are able to 
apply it more effectually, than if it were to be received in small 
portions. A man who has his life insured, has taken considerate 
precaution for those depending on him, and has evinced his ac- 
quiescence in the uncertainty of human life, which is the order 
of Providence, and one of the designs of which is, we may not 
doubt, to promote that precaution and solicitude for the welfare 
of others, which the present state of society preeminently de- 
mands. 

The practice of life-insurance, if encouraged and promoted 
until it becomes general, will have a powerful influence in increas- 
ing the comforts and independence, and consequently the peace 
and happiness, of mankind. Then we shall, in future, see in this 
country, as there are at this moment in England, thousands of 
families in the enjoyment of comforts, of which they would have 
been destitute by the death of their heads or relatives, had it not 
been for such provident precaution. It may well be said, that 
scarcely any subject of equal importance is, at present, so little 
understood or attended to, by the people of the United States, 
and at the same time, no plan, when understood, promises to be 
62 



490 CONCLUSION. 

more warmly or universally approved. The object of all insur- 
ance, of whatever kind, is, to equalize losses, and to distribute 
among many, burthens and calamities r which must otherwise over- 
whelm an individual. 

5. Lastly, the welfare and happiness of mankind, may, beyond 
measure, be advanced, by promoting the spirit and the prevalence 
of peace. The calamities, which mankind have suffered from war, 
are too great to admit of any adequate description. Cicero refers 
to a treatise, written by Dicaearchus, a copious writer and distin- 
guished Peripatetic philosopher, concerning the destruction of 
mankind (de interitu hominum), in which, it seems, he enumer- 
ated all the great causes, which have been most destructive to 
mankind, pestilence, famine, inundations, irruptions of wild beasts, 
&c.,* — and came to the conclusion, that a vastly greater number 
of men had been destroyed by wars and convulsions, than by all 
other calamities combined. f 

Originally, wars knew no other termination than the destruction 
of one of the parties ; and generally this was not accomplished, 
without irreparable injury being done to the other. Both parties 
were severe, if not equal, sufferers. Revenge and retaliation 
were the spirit with which these contests were waged, and the 
conflicts to which those direful passions led, were, above meas- 
ure, sanguinary and destructive. " Ten years were employed," 
says Sismondi, " in subjecting the Gauls to the Romans. And, 
if we believe the conqueror himself, the conquest was not achiev- 
ed but by a frightful massacre. Never did man cause so much 
blood to flow as Cassar ; and, in his narrative, the Gallic nation 
appears to have been destroyed rather than conquered." J Pris- 
oners of war were either indiscriminately put to death on the field 
of battle, or were reserved for the still more cruel fate of torture. 
Domestic servitude or an enormous ransom was the mildest lot, 
which, according to universal usage, they could expect. Fre- 
quently entire countries, in the utter devastation and overwhelm- 
ing ruin with which they were overtaken, bore melancholy wit- 
ness of the fierce and unrelenting passions awakened by war. 

* Ezekiel xiv. 21. t De Officiis, Lib. II. c. 5. 

X Histoire des Frangaie, Tome I. p. 5 ; C. Julii Comment, de Bello Gallico, 
passim. 



THE INFLUENCE OF PEACE. 491 

Although the spirit of modern warfare has been very much 
softened, war still continues to be the greatest calamity with 
which a righteous Heaven punishes the guilty nations, which call 
down its wrath upon themselves. It is still the most desolating 
of all national scourges. It is desolating, in its destruction of 
human life, in its interruption of all the chief employments and 
pursuits which adorn society, and, especially, in the demoralization 
by which it strikes at the root of national prosperity and happi- 
ness. Christianity does not positively forbid war, but its spirit 
and tendency are adverse to violence of every kind, and to the 
rousing of the evil passions, which is an almost inevitable conse- 
quence of a resort to violence and strife. It enjoins its mild and 
peaceable spirit on every individual, and trusts, that, as this divine 
spirit becomes more and more generally the rule by which men's 
actions are governed, this mode of terminating national disputes, 
condemned, as it is, by right reason and enlightened policy, as 
much as it is opposed to its own spirit and precepts, will eventu- 
ally be discontinued, and will ultimately be known only as matter 
of history, among other records of the crimes, follies, and absurd- 
ities of mankind, and of the calamities and sufferings, with which, 
under the promptings of their evil passions, they have been will- 
ing to afflict themselves and one another. 

But, while we may console ourselves with the reflection, that 
the fierce and unrelenting spirit of war has been mitigated by 
Christianity, since the days when Dicaearchus wrote his treatise 
concerning the destruction of mankind, and, trusting in God, may 
refresh ourselves with the belief, that " peace on earth, good-will 
toward men," will, in a preeminent sense, at " the times and 
seasons, which the Father has put in his own power," prevail 
universally ; still the destruction of human life, the waste of treas- 
ure, and the misery of every kind, entailed by war, continues to 
be most lamentable and indescribable. It has been calculated, in 
the Paris " Quotidienne," * that the French revolution, from 
1789 to 1815, cost a loss in lives of 25,707,139 men, slain in 
battle, killed in popular tumults, and executed. The waste of 
treasure to France, during the same period, has been estimated 
at £ 600,000,000 sterling, — nearly 3,000,000,000 of dollars. 

* Walsh's National Gazette, for March 12th, 1829, and December 23d, 1830. 



492 CONCLUSION. 

During the same period, too, France is stated to have suffered 
from sixty-two thousand conflagrations, conspiracies, and insur- 
rections. Dr. Franklin was accustomed to say, "that he al- 
most believed there never had been a good war, or a bad peace." 
Again, says he, " At length we are in peace, God be praised, 
and long, very long, may it continue. All wars are follies, very 
expensive and very mischievous ones. When will mankind be 
convinced of this, and agree to settle their differences by arbitra- 
tion ? Were they to do it, even by the cast of a die, it would 
be better than by fighting and destroying each other." Wash- 
ington says, " It is time for the age of knight-errantry and mad 
heroism to be at an end. Young military men, who want to reap 
the harvest of laurels, care not, I suppose, how many seeds of 
war are sown ; but, for the sake of humanity, it is devoutly to be 
wished, that the manly employment of agriculture, and the human- 
izing benefits of commerce, would supersede the waste of war and 
the rage of conquest ; that the swords might be turned into plough- 
shares, the spears into pruning-hooks, and, as the Scripture ex- 
presses it, the nations learn war no more." 

The spirit and design of our institutions are essentially and 
preeminently peaceful ; as much so, perhaps, as the present con- 
dition of human nature, and of human affairs, can well permit. 
No sentiment has been more universal, from the establishment of 
the independence of the country, than that its essential interest 
consists in cultivating amicable relations with all nations. The 
entire American people have sanctioned this sentiment in the 
most emphatic of all ways, to wit, by declaring, on the face of the 
most elaborate, solemn, and authoritative instrument (the Con- 
stitution of the United States) which they have ever enacted, 
that its great objects are, u to form a more perfect union, estab- 
lish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common 
defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of 
liberty to themselves and their posterity." Only one of these 
objects has any reference to war whatever, and that is limited to 
war in self-defence. 

THE END. 



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